


I May be the Worst but at Least I'm Not a Fucking Ghost

by Redjay27



Series: It's Just Me, You, and These Fucking Ghosts [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Established Relationship, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith is mostly a skeptic, Lance is a mega believer, M/M, Some suggestive language, but bickering still happens, but it's not that bad, but it's still a little funny, lots o' swearing, spooky stuff happens, the rest of the team is there too - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 12:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15558228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redjay27/pseuds/Redjay27
Summary: “So yeah, just something simple. That’s what I would want. Just me and Lance. Together. That’s all...I hope I get to see him again. That’s really all I want.”Keith went silent, closing his eyes as he tried to rein his emotions in. After a few moments, he continued.“I don’t know what’s gonna happen. So just in case things don’t end pleasantly, I’m gonna shut everything off. No one needs to see…” Keith trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence. “So this is Keith Kogane, age twenty-two...signing off.”-----OR an AU where your favorite team becomes ghost hunters. Featuring:-Keith 'guess I'll just die' Kogane-Lance 'no you fucking won't' McClain-Pidge 'the flashlight turned on!' Gunderson-Hunk 'my friend's relationship is so pure' Garret-Takashi 'who spread the rumor I can break down doors?' Shirogane-Allura 'I just ignore half of this idiocy' McSweetheartAND-Lotor 'I'm a snake' McJerkfaceThis is a sequel to 'Ghosts are Pretty Bad but You're the Fucking Worst' so you should read that first. (hint: It's part 1 to this series)





	I May be the Worst but at Least I'm Not a Fucking Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back! Many of you asked for it and how could I say no? So we're back with part 2! Please enjoy and I'll see ya at the end!
> 
> Some terminology:  
> -EVP: Electronic Voice Phenomenon  
> -EMF: Electromagnetic Field (in this fic EMF is used to refer to the device that scans for electromagnetic fields)

“How many times are you gonna make me ask?”

“Do you want an exact number or just an estimate?”

“You can be a real ass sometimes, ya know that right?”

“Really? I had no idea. Excuse me while I go add that to my resume.”

“You don’t _have_ a resume, you dickwad.”

“Why are you here again?”

“Keith! You know why I’m here! It’s been like six months! When are you going to start investigating again? Everyone misses you.”

Keith sighed, turning away from the pot of pasta he’d been stirring to look at Pidge who was standing in the middle of his tiny kitchen, arms crossed and face slightly flushed from irritation.

He knew Pidge was right. It was almost six months to the day that he and Lance had gotten trapped in the morgue of that abandoned asylum. Six months since they had almost met an untimely death. Six months since Keith had felt that phantom electricity flow through him, the incessant screaming splintering his mind and haunting his dreams.

The day after the incident, the whole team had sat down to talk about what happened. Keith remembered the shocked faces of his friends as Lance and him recounted their tale. There were so many things about it that seemed made up, too fantastical, like something he’d see on tv. But it had been real. The whole thing had been real. And accepting that had been almost as hard as living through the event itself.

After that, Shiro insisted that they get checked out at a hospital. And while Keith had tried to convince Shiro that they were fine, he could not be swayed. So Shiro had driven them to the nearest hospital while the rest of the team went back to the asylum to take down their equipment and retrieve the things that he and Lance had left in the morgue. Lance had made them promise to be careful when they went to that basement, telling them that someone should make sure the door remained open at all times. That was the first time no one laughed at his overcautious ways.

What Keith thought would be a quick trip turned out to be a three day stay which was not his idea of a good time. The doctors had found the remnants of a seizure in both his and Lance’s brain. Funny thing was that neither of them had ever had a seizure.

When the doctors could find no cause for the weird brain scan readings, they let Lance and Keith go, chalking it up to malfunctioning equipment. After that fun side trip, Keith had done a little research into electroshock therapy and learned that it ‘treated’ people by giving them seizures. So that was a horrifying thing to learn. He thought Lance was going to faint when he relayed the information.

Pidge and Hunk had gone through all of the recordings from that night in the following week, finding that a good portion of Lance and Keith’s time spent in the morgue was captured - right up until the cameras went dead of course. But there was still audio. For whatever reason the audio recorder hadn’t been drained of battery and, consequently, had recorded the whole thing. Not to mention that they were miked the whole time. Keith had never listened to or seen the recordings. He lived through that once, he didn’t need to do it again.

It had been a debate amongst the team as to whether or not they should release the footage. For one, nothing like that had ever been caught on camera before. People would most certainly think it was all staged. And Keith, having been a skeptic himself, couldn’t really blame them. Six months ago he would’ve thought it was fake too. Another thing was that even though neither he nor Lance would admit it, it had been a traumatic experience. Sharing something like that with the world was no walk in the park. In the end, Shiro said it was up to Lance and him to decide if they should post the footage. It had taken some time for them to reach a decision, but eventually they gave Pidge the go-ahead.

That had been three months ago and the reactions were about as he expected. Some people became outraged, screaming and yelling in the comments that the team had sold out and that everything was fake. Others were very supportive, even going to far as to make their own analysis videos as to why the footage couldn’t possibly be fake. Shiro had come forward with an official statement that the team was holding firm in their insistence that it was all real.

Regardless of what people thought of it, the popularity of the show skyrocketed. They had been holding steady at about a million subscribers, but now they were quickly approaching five million. Keith was happy about that, he really was. They put a lot of work into their show and it deserved the recognition. He just wished that their newfound popularity didn’t come with the burden of receiving hundreds of questions all asking him if he was okay and when he was coming back to the show. It was exhausting and made him feel more than a little guilty. He hated disappointing his fans.

It didn’t help that Pidge asked him the same things at least three times a week. He knew that they were just worried about him and worried about the show altogether. Still, he would be lying if he said it wasn’t a constant source of stress in his life.

“Pidge, I’m going to tell you the same thing I told you two days ago and two days before that. I’ll come back when Lance is ready to come back.” Keith kept his voice firm, letting Pidge know that no form of begging or pleading was going to change his answer.

“But Lance says he’ll only come back when you’re ready to come back!” Pidge said, throwing their hands up in exasperation. “You guys are going to give me an aneurysm…”

Keith smirked at Pidge before turning back to the stove, dipping his wooden spoon in the boiling water and stirring. He’d had a lot of free time on his hands since he took a break from the show. And like anything else, there were some pros and cons to that. Well, there was really only one con, but it was a major one. It was far too easy for him to get wrapped up in his head. Whenever that happened, his thoughts would eventually wind up thinking about that night. That, obviously, led to more nightmares which led to a worried Lance which led to his life becoming one giant stressed mess.

So Keith had found ways to combat his ability to overthink. He started teaching himself mundane tasks that he probably already should’ve known but had never taken the time to actually learn. Like cooking, for example. He spent a lot of his time in his kitchen trying out new recipes that he found online or that were passed onto him from Hunk. He was far from being considered a good cook, but he had certainly come a long ways from burning water.

Today, the smell of garlic filled his kitchen, wafting out into the other rooms of his apartment. He could feel the heat of the stove on his skin, small beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face. His hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail in a poor attempt to relieve himself from the heat. The quiet strumming of an acoustic guitar could be heard coming from his phone which sat on the counter next to the sink. Keith had been humming softly along to the music as he worked.

Well, that was, until Pidge had shown up.

“Where is Lance anyway?” Keith heard Pidge ask, moving to hop up on one of the counters Keith wasn’t currently using. They pulled their feet up so they were sitting criss-cross, hands placed neatly in their lap. “I thought he’d be here.”

Keith glanced at the clock on the microwave before answering, “Probably still at the gym.”

“But it’s almost noon.” Pidge pointed out.

“He woke up late today.” Was all the explanation that Keith offered.

Keith didn’t need to look at Pidge to know that they had a shit-eating grin on their face. “Oooooooohhhhh, did you keep him up too late? Or maybe you just wore him out.” Their voice was mocking, bordering on obnoxious.

Keith looked over at them with the most innocent look he could muster up. “I didn’t realize this was that kind of conversation. Tell me, Pidge. What goes on in your bedroom life? Probably not too much if you feel the need to pry into mine.”

Pidge’s face fell into a glare, their cheeks tinged with pink. “You’re walking on real thin fucking ice, Kogane.”

“Don’t dish it if you can’t take it.” Keith replied, smirking at his small friend.

“Whatever.” Pidge said, hopping off the counter, a thud rising up from the tiled floor as they landed. “I need to make a call. I’ll be right back.”

Keith hummed in acknowledgement as Pidge left the room. Deciding that the noodles were thoroughly cooked, he shut off the burner and carefully moved the pot over to the sink where a colander was waiting. Steam rose up from the sink as he poured the noodles in, coating his face in a hot liquid sheen, dampening the tips of the bangs that fell in front of his eyes.

He could hear Pidge’s voice coming from the living room but couldn’t make out any of the words, much less figure out who they were talking to. Not that he cared much. Pidge had a million things going on in their life at all times. Keith was pretty sure that Pidge couldn’t even keep up with it all. And it had probably only gotten worse over the past couple of months with the show becoming so popular. He felt bad for the little gremlin...but only slightly.

As Keith was placing the still hot pot, now empty, back on the stove, he heard Pidge reenter the Kitchen. “Good news!”

“Good news for you or good news for me?”

“Well it’s definitely good news for me.” Pidge replied, retaking their former place on Keith’s counter. “Lance agreed to come along on the next investigation!”

Keith gave them a surprised look. “Really? My Lance? The Lance that won’t live in any building that’s over fifty years old because ‘the older the building, the more likely it is to be haunted, Keith. Do the math.’? That Lance?”

“The very same.” Pidge said, laughing at Keith’s not-in-any-way-inaccurate impression of Lance. “He said he’s in as long as it’s not a demon-infested house, prison, or asylum.”

Keith snorted in amusement. “That doesn’t leave you very many options.”

“Ye of little faith!” Pidge said, a mischievous glint in their eye. “I already have a place in mind. More importantly, though. You said that you’d come back once Lance came back.”

Keith didn’t respond as he walked over to his fridge, opening it and pulling out a stick of butter. He knew that _was_ what he said, but he hadn’t expected Lance to decide to just jump back in out of nowhere. He at least thought they would have talked about it first. But if Lance felt like he was ready, maybe Keith was too.

“Oh, c’mon. Please?” Pidge said as Keith moved back to the stove, unwrapping the butter as he went. “I promise the place we’re going to isn’t even _that_ haunted. It’s like a baby haunting.”

“How can a place be haunted by a baby?” Keith asked as he cut off a chunk of butter and placed it in the waiting pan, turning on the burner as he did.

“I don’t know how Lance puts up with you.” Pidge said, voice flat.

“Don’t know. You’d have to ask him.” Keith replied, moving the butter around the pan with his wooden spoon so it would melt faster. He glanced over at Pidge briefly before he said, “Fine. I’ll go.”

“What? Really?!” Pidge asked, practically shouting in their excitement. “The team is back together, baby!”

Keith couldn’t help but smile at their outburst. Few things got Pidge as excited as an upcoming investigation.

“Oh, I’m gonna tweet about it! Everyone’s gonna lose their shit!” Pidge whipped out their phone faster than Keith thought possible, their fingers flying across the screen at an almost inhuman speed. “So happy to have Red and Blue back with us on our next investigation.” Pidge said as they typed. “Hashtag, watch out ghosts. Hashtag, the boys are back.”

Keith just rolled his eyes, deciding that he was going to need to put his phone on ‘do no disturb’; it would be blowing up within the hour for sure. Keith grabbed the small bowl of chopped up garlic and dumped it into the pan, a loud sizzling sound filling the room.

“Fuck, that smells good.” Pidge said. “What are you even making? Please tell me you’re planning on sharing.”

“Creamy Garlic Penne Pasta.” Keith replied. “And since when am I in charge of feeding you?”

“Since you decided to make food that was actually edible.” Pidge said, a snarkiness to their voice.

“And you expect me to give you some after saying something like that?” Keith asked, his voice holding just a hint of annoyance.

“Yes and ya wanna know why? Because you might act all sarcastic and tough all the time but you’re actually a big softy. Don’t try to deny it. Lance told me.” Keith could hear the smugness in Pidge’s voice. No way was he gonna admit to something like that even if Pidge wasn’t necessarily wrong.

“Seems like neither of you are getting lunch today. More for me I guess.” He kept his voice even, not betraying his slight embarrassment.

“Sure, okay. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Keith’s rebuttal was cut off by the sound of the front door slamming, a happy sigh accompanying it.

“Lance!” Pidge yelled, hopping off the counter and scurrying out of the room. “Keith said he’s not gonna give-oh shit, what happened to you?”

“This is my new look. Do you like it?” Lance’s voice said just loud enough for Keith to hear.

“You look like a yeti threw up on you.”

“I call this look Snowy Sweat. Ya know, because I’m sweaty...and covered in snow. It’s snowing outside. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

“Yes, thank you. I couldn’t have figured that out on my own.”

Keith chuckled at the pointless banter between the two as he focused on adding the rest of the ingredients to the sauce he was making. The past six months had not been the easiest compared to the rest of his life, Keith could admit that. But if there was one thing that had kept him grounded, steady, able to live in the moment, it was Lance.

There was never a boring day when Lance was around. And while that had been the case ever since he had first met Lance back in middle school, the connotation had shifted. It was more than just bickering and getting on each other’s nerves, although that did still happen. Lance was bright. He was colorful. Even when he was cowering in fear there was a life to him that Keith couldn’t quite explain but couldn’t look away from either.

“Watcha making?” He heard a voice say from behind him, the weight of Lance’s chin resting on his shoulder.

Keith scrunched up his nose, shrugging the taller boy off of him. “You stink.”

“That’s just the smell of hard work and determination.” Lance said cheekily. “Betcha wish you could smell this good.”

“If hard work and determination smells like month old socks and rotten eggs than I think I’ll pass.” Keith replied, turning to look at him for the first time. He instantly regretted the action, breath catching at the sight in front of him. No one had the right to look _that good_ after spending two hours at the gym. Not one single person. But here Lance was, standing in the middle of his kitchen looking like he didn’t have a care in the world, blissfully unaware of the effect he was having on Keith.

His brown hair was damp, small droplets hanging from the end of a few of the strands, most likely from the snow. His cheeks and nose were still red either from his workout or from being outside, probably both. The bright color brought out the small, light brown freckles that dusted his face. His tan skin glistened slightly from the sweat that still clung to his body, adding an almost ethereal glow to him. He wore a dark blue muscle-t that really didn’t leave much to the imagination and a pair of dark sweats. Nothing about his appearance was fair Keith decided.

“I think you killed him…” Pidge said, peering around Lance’s tall frame. “It’s been like a minute and I haven’t seen him blink once.”

“Just give him a moment.” Lance replied, looking down at Pidge. “He needs some time to reboot his system.”

So maybe he wasn’t so blissfully unaware after all.

“Go take a shower.” Keith said, shooting Lance with a glare that had no real malice behind it. “Why didn’t you shower before coming over? And don’t give me that excuse about not wanting to go all the way home. I know there are showers at the gym.”

“Keith, based on your reaction, I think we all know why he didn’t shower at the gym.” Pidge chimed in amusedly.

“You. Shut up.” Keith said, giving Pidge a real glare before shifting his eyes back to Lance. “And you. Shower. Now. I’m going to throw up if I have to keep smelling you.”

“Wow.” Lance said as he made his way out of the room, smirking at Keith over his shoulder. “You can really feel the love in this relationship.”

“I can love you _after_ you stop smelling like you rolled around in a landfill.” Keith called to him.

“Be still, my beating heart!”

“You guys are so cute.” Pidge said, laughing.

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

“Right, right. Sorry.”

\-----

“You could’ve told me, ya know.” Keith said as he entered his bedroom later that night, hair still wet from the shower he had just taken. Lance was on Keith’s bed, propped up against the headboard, phone in hand, thumb moving up and down slowly as he scrolled through one of his many social media profiles.

“Told you what?” Lance asked, lowering his phone and giving Keith a confused look.

Keith climbed onto the bed, sitting with his legs tucked under him, facing Lance. “Told me that you were ready to start investigating again. I had to hear it from Pidge.”

Lance’s confused look only deepened. “What are you talking about? I never said anything like that to Pidge.”

“But they told me you had agreed to an investigation as long as it wasn’t in a demon-infested house, prison, or asylum.”

“Well, yeah. I said that. But that was only after they told me _you_ had told them you were ready to start investigating again.”

Keith froze, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. “I never said that…” His voice was soft, low, stunned.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Lance asked, seeming to come to the same conclusion as Keith.

“Call them.” Keith said, his tone becoming dangerous. “Call them right now.”

Lance nodded and raised his phone, fingers tapping a few buttons before Keith could hear the call ringing out.

“They better pick up.” Keith said darkly.

“Yo, Lance. What’s up?” Pidge’s voice said after the third ring.

“You motherfucker.” Keith said, words sharp.  

“Oh, hey Keith!” Pidge said, their voice overly cheerful. “You’re on this call too...yay…”

“You’re such a little snake!” Lance said, his voice raising in his own anger.

“Oh…shit...think….breaking up…”

“Don’t you dare pull that card!” Lance yelled into the phone. “Pidge!”

The line went dead, Keith and Lance staring at the ‘called ended’ screen on Lance’s phone.

“I’m gonna kill them.” Keith said, fire dancing in his eyes.

“I can’t believe them…” Lance muttered in disbelief. “What’re we gonna do?”

“We could always just not go. It’s not like anyone is forcing us to.”

Lance shook his head. “Actually, someone is kinda forcing us. A lot of people, to be exact.”

“What do you mean?” Keith cocked his head to the side in confusion.

Lance sighed and tapped his phone a few times before turning the screen so Keith could see it. “Remember that tweet Pidge made?”

Keith took Lance’s phone, scrolling through some of the replies. “It must be my birthday because this is the greatest gift of all.” Keith read aloud as he scrolled. “I thought they would never come off hiatus. They must’ve passed the honeymoon phase.”

Lance snorted at that, muttering, “Yeah, as if we ever had a honeymoon phase…”

Keith ignored him and kept reading. “So happy that we’re going to see some Team Purple action.” Keith lowered the phone, brows furrowing. “What the hell is ‘Team Purple’?”

“You’re Red, I’m Blue.” Lance explained, looking at Keith as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Mix ‘em together and you get purple.”

“Huh...that’s stupid.”

Lance snatched his phone back with an annoyed huff. “Don’t let the fans hear you say that. Besides, I think it’s kinda cute…”

“Did you come up with it?” Keith asked, not trying to hide his amusement.

“W-What?! No! Of course not! Don’t be ridiculous!” Lance’s voice was pitched higher than normal, face turning red in his embarrassment. “The point is that if we don’t do the investigation, a lot of fans will be really disappointed and probably think that Pidge lied.”

Keith sighed. He knew Lance was right. He really did hate to let their fans down. Plus, Pidge didn’t deserve to fall under fire just because they backed out. He was pissed off at them, but he wasn’t _that_ pissed off. “I guess our hands are tied.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Lance said, voice slightly shaky. “I’m sure nothing bad will happen at all.”

“Your confidence is inspiring.” Keith replied sarcastically.

“Pssh, whatever. Let’s just go to sleep.”

Keith chuckled but didn’t say anything, standing up from the bed so he could pull the covers down properly on his side. Lance also stood up, plugging his phone in to charge and then leaving the room. A moment later Keith heard the sound of the bathroom door closing.

As Keith climbed into his side of the bed - the right side because ‘left-handed people should get the left side of the bed because left is the _best_ side just like it’s the _best_ hand and I’ve earned it, Keith!’ - his thoughts drifted to the upcoming investigation. He knew that this investigation would be unlike any he had ever been on before. Not because they were going to some weird location (he actually had no idea where they were going), but because he wouldn’t be going while believing that nothing was going to be waiting for them. Of course, he wasn’t about to turn into another Lance and assume that every small noise was a ghost trying to kill them. That seemed a little extreme. In fact, he would go so far as to say that about ninety-five percent of the ‘evidence’ they captured wasn’t actually caused by ghosts. But there was still that small chance that something unseen and very _very_ real could be lurking in the shadows. And it was that small chance that sent a shiver up his spine, the echoes of the pained screams bouncing around his head momentarily.

Keith’s hands clenched the covers that were pooled around his waist, knuckles going white from his iron grip. His eyes stared unseeing at his grey comforter, memories flooding his mind.

Heart pounding against his chest as they waited in the pitch black…

The iron door slamming over and over again in some chaotic mantra…

The rattling of the gurneys, moved by some invisible enemy…

The wind tearing at his clothes, stinging his face…

The shocks cours-

“You know he can’t get to us anymore, right?”

It was Lance’s voice that pulled Keith out his head, causing him to look up at the tanned boy leaning against the doorframe.

“What?”

“We’re safe. You and me. He can’t hurt us anymore.” Lance said, his voice soft, gentle.

“I-I know that.” Keith choked out.

“Are you sure?” Lance asked, pushing himself off the doorframe and crossing the room. He crawled onto the bed so he was sitting about a foot in front of Keith, deep blue eyes burning into Keith’s indigo ones. “It doesn’t seem that way.” Lance’s voice was hushed, barely more than a murmur.

“I do.” Keith insisted, his own voice a whisper. “But sometimes it’s like I’m back there. In the morgue. And he’s there and I can _feel_ him inside me and-”

Lance reached up, placing his hands gently on either side of Keith’s face, thumbs rubbing soothing circles along his cheekbones. “Listen to me. You are here. With me. Safe. Far, far away from him. And we are _never_ going back to that place. Ever. Okay?”

Keith could only nod slightly, his voice locking up in his throat. Lance smiled softly at him, a kindness in his eyes that was reserved for Keith and Keith alone.

Lance leaned forward, soft lips pressing gently against his own. Warmth spread through Keith, lighting up his insides and calming his nerves. His heart beat against his rib cage, growing more frantic with each passing moment. 

Kissing Lance was something Keith would never get used to. The experience always came with some new feeling, some new reaction. And just when Keith thought he had felt all he could feel and reacted in every possible way, a new sensation would arise and he would be back to square one.

Right now, Keith felt safe, protected. Back in the asylum, it had been Keith who had protected Lance and he would do it again in a heartbeat if the need arose. But now it seemed like it was Lance’s turn to protect Keith, and he was more than willing to submit to that. Even the strongest of people were allowed to feel vulnerable, Keith knew that. And normally, he would recoil at the thought of anyone seeing him in such a state. But this was Lance. No matter how much they bickered or how much they got on each other’s nerves, he would always be there right when Keith needed him most.

As the two broke away, cool hands left his face only to grasp Keith’s shoulders and pull him against Lance’s chest. One hand gripped the back of Keith’s shirt while the other laced itself through Keith’s still-drying hair. Keith melted into the embrace, breathing in Lance’s familiar scent of cinnamon and pine. He could feel Lance kiss the top of his head, causing Keith’s fingers to curl into the fabric of Lance’s shirt, never wanting to let go.

Lance was bright. Lance was colorful. Lance was what kept Keith balanced in his otherwise chaotic life.

That night Keith’s dreams stayed far away from the asylum and the evil that lurked within, and when he awoke the next morning he knew it was because he was still tucked safely in Lance’s arms.

\-----

Pidge was practically vibrating in their seat next to Keith, eyes wide with excitement as their twelve hour car ride drew closer and closer to its end. Snow-covered hills rolled on either side of the car as the van sped down the empty highway. The sun shone brightly through the left side windows, the rays reaching out over Keith’s person, enveloping him in a comforting warmth. He knew that in a few hours time the sun would disappear completely, leaving only the bitterness of night.

“Can you please tell us where we’re going?” He heard Lance ask, leaning forward and resting his arms over the top of the middle seat of the van, head turned towards Pidge.

“Nope!” Pidge side, popping the ‘p’. “It’s a surprise.” They pushed Lance’s head lightly so he fell back into his spot in the back seat.

“Why does it have to be a surprise?” Lance asked, voice bordering on a whine.

“Because it’s more fun that way.” Pidge replied. “This is the perfect place to get you guys back into the swing of things, trust me.”

“Yeah, as if we’re gonna trust anything you say after that little stunt of yours.” Keith said, voice flat.

Keith could see Pidge deflate, falling back against their seat. “Are you still mad about that? That was like a whole week ago...plus I apologized like twenty times…”

“Yeah, 'cause Shiro made you.” Lance pointed out.

Pidge crossed their arms with a small huff. “There’s just no pleasing you guys.”

“Turn left here, Shiro.” Allura said. “It should be just up ahead then.

“You mean where that giant gate is?” Shiro asked, slowing the van.

“Yep.” Allura replied.

Pidge, their mood shifting in an instant, leaned forward to peer around Allura’s seat, grasping the headrest tightly. “We’re here!”

Keith also leaned forward to see the giant gate Shiro was talking about. It looked like something out of a fantasy novel. Golden bars ran all the way from the ground until they formed ornate points a good fifteen feet in the air. The two sides of the gate were perfectly symmetrical, swirling patterns of silver fitted between the golden bars, mirroring itself perfectly. Beyond the gate was a black-topped drive that twisted away into the hills. It looked like it had recently been cleared of snow, chunks of ice still littering the edges of the private road.

Shiro stopped the van in front of the gate, the entire team taking a moment to marvel at the beauty of it. As Keith’s eyes scanned the gate, he noticed a small camera perched on the far left side.

“I think they know we’re here.” Keith commented to no one in particular.

As if on cue, the gate started moving, swinging open slowly. Despite its grandeur, there was a loud screeching noise as it moved, the years of use probably taking a toll on the hinges. Once the opening was wide enough, Shiro drove the van through, following the winding road towards their destination.  

“What kinda place is this?” Hunk asked from his position next to Lance.

“The kinda place I wish I could live in.” Pidge replied, looking back at Hunk. “The owner reached out to us after the asylum video, right Allura?”

“Mhm, that’s right.” She replied. “Apparently we’re going to be the first people to ever conduct a paranormal investigation here.”

“So how do we know this place is even haunted then?” Keith asked.

“The owner opens up the mansion during the summer for tours. That’s where most of the reports come from.”

“Wait. Did you say ‘mansion’?” Lance asked, his voice raising in surprise.

“She sure did.” Pidge said with an excited nod. “May I present to you Le Manoir de Galrion!” Pidge declared as the van rounded a bend, a large, ornate building coming into view. “It’s French.”

“French for what?” Hunk asked, leaning forward in his seat to get a better view.

Allura turned in her seat to face them. “It means something like Galrion Mansion. The Galrion family were the ones who built this place. After the revolutionary war ended, some of the richer families of France decided to migrate to America. They built these huge mansions all up and down the east coast. The Galrions were one such family. The person who owns the mansion now is the last remaining Galrion alive.”

“This has got to be the nicest looking place we’ve ever been to.” Hunk commented as the van came to a stop in front of a large set of stairs that led up to the front entrance. “Why did we wait so long to accept the invitation?”

“The owner was very adamant that the whole team be here for the investigation.” Allura explained. “He specifically wanted Lance to be present.”

“Me?” Lance asked, his tone surprised. “Why me?”

“I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask him.” She replied.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Pidge said, pushing the door open, a blast of cold air filling the warm van. “Let’s go take a look inside!” They hopped out of the van, short legs breaking into a run as they bounded up the steps, all the while chanting “Haun-ted man-sion! Haun-ted man-sion!”

“Someone should stop them before they hurt themselves.” Shiro said, sighing as he unbuckled his seat belt and exited the van. Allura only laughed softly as she followed suit.

“You guys want to go take a look around before we start unloading?” Hunk asked, eyes shifting between Keith and Lance.

Keith only had to glance at Lance briefly to see the fear in his eyes, body caving in on itself as he hunched over. “You go ahead, Hunk.” Keith said. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Hunk only gave them a thumbs up before he was out of the van, shutting the door behind him. Keith turned so he was facing Lance, laying his arms across the top of the seat and resting his chin upon them.

“Pre-investigation freak out?”

Lance gave him a small nod. “How can you not be freaking out? Look at that place!”

Keith gave him a small smile. “The chance of there being an actual ghost in there is pretty low.”

“Small? Mansions are like number four on my list of most haunted places!”

“Mansions? Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” Lance said, nodding his head frantically. “There’s a frickin’ ride in Disney Word literally called ‘Haunted Mansion’! Do you think they just pulled that name from nowhere? Of course not! It’s because everyone knows that every single mansion is super haunted!”

Keith bit his lip to keep from laughing at Lance’s outburst. He knew that Lance was completely serious and his fear genuine, but that only made it funnier to Keith.

“How many mansions have you actually been too? _Aside_ from the Disney World ride?”

Lance was silent for a moment, gaze falling to his feet, cheeks growing slightly pink. “None…” He finally muttered almost too quiet for Keith to hear.

“So how do you know that every single one is haunted?”

Another silence.

“I don’t…”

“Exactly.” Keith said, smiling at Lance even though his eyes were still locked on his feet. “And as I said, the chances of this place actually being haunted are pretty low. You’ve really got nothing to worry about.”

“But it _could_ be.” Lance said, blue eyes meeting indigo. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Well you won’t know until you actually go in there.” Keith pointed out.

“Who says I want to find out?” Lance replied, crossing his arms in defiance.   

Keith sighed, “Look, no one is forcing you to go in there and no one would blame you if you decided to stay out here all night. But I’m going in there and I know I’d feel a lot better if you were in there with me.”

Keith had never seen someone’s eyes light up as fast as Lance’s did in that moment. It was like some sort of switch had been flipped, sending his boyfriend into protection mode. It was endearing, if not just the tiniest bit frightening.

“Let’s fucking go then.” Lance said, reaching over to push the door open more forcefully than Keith thought was necessary. Cold air rushed in, causing Keith to pull his jacket tighter around himself as Lance stepped out of the van, hands on his hips and shoulders squared as he stared up at the enormous mansion.

Keith followed him out, closing the door behind him and then moving to Lance’s side. He could see a mixed expression of determination and fear on Lance’s face, a bizarre combination to say the least. Shifting his eyes over, Keith took a moment to take in the building.

It was old, that much Keith could tell. But it wasn’t old in the sense that it was rundown - which was a nice change of pace from the usual places they investigated. In actuality, the upkeep on the building was remarkably impressive. The beige brick that lined the outside of the building was pristine, no chips or cracks that Keith could see. Large windows were spaced out evenly on all three floors of the mansion, the dark shutters framing them giving off a foreboding, almost sinister air. Grey stone steps were in front of him, a row of tall columns rising on either side. At the top of the steps a large mahogany door stood, dark designs twisting and curving up it ostentatiously. It was a mansion built to impress.

“The owner of this place is probably a dick.” Keith said, talking more to himself than Lance.

“You think?” Lance asked, still staring at the building.

“Mhm.” Keith replied. “I mean, he’s French so…”

“Hey! I’m, like, one sixteenth French.”

Keith gave Lance a wry smile. “Did I stutter?”

He didn’t give Lance time to process what he said, instead walking up the stone steps towards the ornate door. He glanced over his shoulder once, chuckling when he caught sight of the glare being directed his way. Too easy. It was always way too easy.

“Well at least I’m only one sixteenth dick! You’re a hundred percent dick!” Lance called to him, voice cracking slightly in his rage. Keith stopped on a step and turned, staring down at Lance who was still standing at the bottom of the staircase, fists clenched in anger.

“Huh, don’t remember that ever bothering you before. Actually, I remember one night you said-”

“I swear to _god_ if you don’t shut up I’m gonna make sure you become this place’s newest ghost resident.” Lance cut him off, voice turning dark with rage. His face betrayed him, however, a dark shade of red creeping up his cheeks. Keith was pretty sure it wasn’t from the cold.

_‘Cute.’_ Keith thought.

“You guys are gross.” Pidge’s voice said from behind Keith. “Talk like that when the cameras are rolling and we’ll be demonetized for sure.”

Keith turned to see Pidge’s head sticking out from the large door that they had pushed slightly open, an amused look on their face. “It’d be your fault for not editing it out.” Keith replied with a shrug, starting up the steps again.

“Oh, yeah! Because _I’m_ the one who does all the work around here and you guys do _jack shit!_ ” Pidge glared at Keith who in return just shrugged his shoulders again.

“Don’t blame him, Pidge.” Lance said from behind Keith, the sounds of him finally ascending the steps accompanying his voice. “It’s not his fault the only thing he’s got going for him is his pretty face.” Lance reached the top of the steps, joining the other two. He draped an arm around Keith’s shoulders, letting out a whimsical sigh as he did. “A true tragedy.”

Keith pushed Lance’s arm off as Pidge started laughing, giving the taller boy an annoyed look. “Well, one of us has to be the pretty one and it sure as hell isn’t you.”

“You guys should come inside before a fight breaks out.” Pidge chimed in, eyes shifting between the two amusedly. “This place is pretty freaking cool.”

“Inside?” Lance said, his voice losing its previous dramatics.

“Yes, inside.” Pidge replied, opening the door wider. “It’s really not that bad. It doesn’t have the same creepiness factor as the other places we’ve been too.”

Keith hummed in response as he moved to enter the building. As he passed his small friend, he muttered a small “Thanks.” He kept his voice low, not wanting Lance to hear. Keith could see what Pidge was doing - finding a place that had a very low chance of being haunted, making sure it didn’t have some horrific history where a thousand people died, probably didn’t have a morgue anywhere. Under all of the snark and teasing, Pidge could be sweet. It was just hard to see sometimes.

Pidge just gave him a small nod in return, knowing that no more needed to be said between the two. They both understood the depth of the mostly unspoken appreciation.

Keith’s stopped a few feet past the door, stunned at the grandeur of the place. The outside had looked high class, but the inside was on a whole different level. The foyer he stood in was large, larger than any he had previously seen. The walls of the room were a deep red, almost brown color, a carved black crown molding running along the perimeter. The floors were tiled, pristine white with elegant black veins running throughout the pattern. Keith could see an arched doorway on the far side of the room, beyond it a vintage-looking sitting room. A staircase ran along the left wall, curving upwards to the second floor where Keith could see an entrance to a long hallway before continue up the along the right wall, no doubt leading to the third floor of the building. The warm air smelled of sandalwood, the age of the building richening the scent. It clung to the historic walls and sat atop the polished mahogany furniture that was present in the room. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, light reflecting in the marbled tiling of the floors, causing the room to be more illuminated than the dark walls would allow.

Keith felt out of place, like he had wandered into the wrong building. It was too exquisite for his four-year-old dirty converse, black pants that were ripped in the knees, dark red button-up shirt that was slightly faded from being worn at least twice a week, and dark grey bomber jacket that barely qualified as a winter coat. In short, he felt like he need to change into nothing short of a suit.

“Damn…” Keith breathed out, still taking in the marvel of the place.

“I know, right?” Pidge said, coming to stand next to him. “Pretty great.”

“I don’t like it.” Lance said, moving to Keith’s other side, hand reaching up to lightly grasp the fabric of Keith’s sleeve. “Something feels...off.” His voice was strained, eyes shifting from one side of the room to the other.

“You think every place feels off.” Pidge pointed out matter-of-factly.

“I know, but…” Lance trailed off, shifting uncomfortably.

“Oh, hey guys.” Shiro’s voice called from the second floor. Keith looked up to see Shiro, Allura, and Hunk emerging from the hall, coming to stand behind the dark railing, looking down at the three of them below. Along with them was a man Keith didn’t recognize who he assumed was the owner of the building. He had long, white flowing hair that almost matched Allura’s. His features were elegant, sharp and analytical, but also subtle and smooth. He had a natural beauty to him, one that Keith was sure the man himself was aware of.

Looking at the guy, there was no way he wasn’t a dick.

“We were just about to start unloading the van. Base camp is gonna be on the second floor. Apparently that’s where the most...” Shiro continued talking, laying out instructions for the team.

Keith wasn’t listening to Shiro; instead he was focused on the way the owner of the mansion’s eyes were trained on Lance, moving up and down his tall figure. Keith didn’t think Lance noticed the look, too busy constantly checking over his shoulder. But Keith noticed.

And he _really_ didn’t like it.

There was something sinister in the gaze, like a tiger sizing up its prey. It set Keith’s nerves off, his jaw clenching, body shifting slightly in front of the boy still clinging to his sleeve. Noticing the movement, the dark gaze met his own. Keith kept his look steely as he stared into the malice-filled eyes of the owner. Neither looked away, Keith not even daring to blink. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that this guy, whoever he was, was dangerous. He was unsettled by him more so than by the possibility of this place being haunted.

A sly, almost condescending smirk appeared on his adversary’s face, small enough to not be noticed by the others in the room, but big enough so Keith would see it without a doubt. It was a challenge, but as to what Keith wasn’t sure. Regardless, the look made his skin crawl. He was going to have to keep himself and Lance far away from that guy tonight.

“So let’s get started.” Shiro said and the group moved into action. Allura followed the owner back down the hallway, no doubt being taken on a tour of the mansion’s hotspots. Shiro and Hunk started down the stairs as Lance tugged on Keith’s sleeve to get him moving in the direction of the door.

“I don’t like him.” Keith said as the trio made their way back outside, the cold air stinging his face. The temperature was dropping, signaling that night was on its way.

“You mean Lotor?” Pidge said. “He looks really pompous, but he’s actually pretty nice. Maybe a little too polite for my taste, but nice.”

“He’s bad news.” Keith said as they descended the stairs.

“Based on what?” Lance asked, voice steadier now that they were back outside.

“He looked at you.” Keith said, not offering up any more explanation than that.

He heard Pidge snort before saying, “So? Lots of people look at Lance. Hell, thousands of people watch him online like all the time.”

“I don’t like the way he looked at him.” Keith said, reaching to pull open the trunk of the van.

“Aw, are you jealous?” Lance asked, a smug-looking grin on his face. “That’s adorable.”

“I’m not jealous.” Keith said, tone sharp. “He just makes me uneasy, that’s all.”

“Keith, buddy, that’s called jealousy.” Pidge said, their own smug look on their face.

“It’s only natural.” Lance chimed in. “Especially with me looking this good all the time.”

Keith rolled his eyes, grabbing a few of the black cases their equipment was kept in. “I hate both of you.” Keith didn’t wait for them, instead making his way back inside, passing Shiro and Hunk on the stone steps.

“We’re setting up in the room at the end of the hall on the second floor.” Shiro said to him with a nod.

Keith only nodded in return, breath coming out in pants as he hauled the cases inside. The front door had been left open for them, the cold air leaking into the large mansion. Keith thanked whoever left it open mentally as he continued on into the building, passing through the grand foyer and ascending the stairs to the second floor.

The hallway he found himself in had the same color scheme as the foyer, but the tiled floored had been switched out for hardwood which creaked slightly under Keith’s weight. The walls were lined with portraits on either side, golden name plates below each picture, all sporting the last name Galrion. Reaching the end of the hall, Keith entered into a large room that appeared to be some sort of den...or drawing room maybe? Whatever the fancy mansion term was for it.

Two of the walls of the room were made up by bookcases, some of the titles in English and others in French. There was a fireplace along a third wall, flames casually dancing in the hearth, sending out the homely smell of firewood. Leather couches and plush chairs surrounded the fireplace, looking almost new. They sat atop a dark patterned rug, silver swirls curling and swaying in an elegant pattern.

Keith moved further into the room, setting the cases in his hands down in the center. Despite the crackling fire, the room seemed cold, distant. Like it was trying too hard to look appealing.

“If you want to start setting up, we can grab the rest.” Shiro said as the others entered the room, setting cases down near Keith.

“Sure.” Keith said, glancing around the room again.

Pidge and Shiro left to grab the rest of the equipment while he, Lance, and Hunk started sorting through the black cases. Set up didn’t take too long even though he and Lance hadn’t done it in so long. The mansion was fairly easy to navigate Keith had found out. There were signs conveniently posted throughout the building that directed him to where he needed to go. He guessed they were for the tourist that visited the mansion in the summer. Keith was just glad that he didn’t have to ask Lotor for directions. He wanted to do everything in his power to stay away from him.

He did notice that Lance was never far away, almost like he was hovering around Keith. Keith wasn’t sure if that was due to his own fear, or if he was worried about him. It was probably a bit of both. Keith didn’t mind, however. He would much rather Lance stay near him and far _far_ away from the white-haired owner.

Keith was alone, however, on his last pass through the mansion, turning off lights as he went. He could tell that the sun had almost completely set, only a dim orange haze shining through the windows. Keith could feel a twisting in his gut with every light he turned off. He tried to tell himself that there was nothing there, that the likelihood of a place like this being haunted was small, almost nonexistent. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes staring at his back every time he left a room. He felt like he was being followed, stalked by an unseen enemy.

“It’s all in your head…” Keith muttered to himself as he descended back down the stairs to the second floor. The words were less of a comfort and more of an opening for memories of the screaming in his head to float towards the forefront of his thoughts, sending a shudder down his back.

_‘Stupid.’_ He thoughts to himself angrily. _‘Don’t think about that now. Focus on the investigation.’_

Keith sped up his pace as he headed down the hall and back to base camp, hitting the light switch in the hall as he passed. Reentering the room that housed their base camp, he saw the rest of the team gearing up for the night, mics and body cams being adjusted. Or at least, most of the team was doing that. Lance was missing.

Keith’s eyes shifted around the room until he caught sight of him. He was standing off in the corner by the bookshelves, back turned towards Keith. In front of him stood Lotor, what appeared to be a friendly smile on his face.

But Keith knew better.

Their voices were hushed, not loud enough for Keith to hear what they were saying. He did notice, however, the way Lance’s shoulders tensed, how he kept shifting his weight from side to side, how his hands were gripping the sides of his jeans.

Sirens went off in Keith’s head. He felt his blood start to boil as he watched the two, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Lotor. He clenched his fists, pale knuckles turning bone white from the pressure. He didn’t know what game that bastard was playing but Keith didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.

What he liked even less was Lotor reaching out and placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder, eyes glancing at Keith as he did. He was taunting him. That much Keith was sure of. And he’d sooner be possessed by a ghost again than sit back and watch as this dick made friendly with _his_ boyfriend. Nope. No way. Not in this lifetime.

“Lance.” Keith said as he moved closer to the pair, tone low and dangerous. He knew that would capture the taller boy’s attention. “We should get suited up.”

 Keith kept his eyes on Lance, not wanting to see whatever condescending look was on Lotor’s face. He wasn’t sure he could restrain himself if he did.

“Oh, ye-” Lance stopped short as he turned to see a practically seething Keith. His expression morphed from shocked to concerned to annoyed in a matter of seconds. “Unbelievable…” Lance muttered as he started towards Keith, catching him by the arm and dragging him back towards the others. “What’s your problem, man? You want Lotor to kick us out because you don’t know how to handle jealousy?” Lance’s voice was a whisper, but even a deaf person could’ve heard the irritation in his tone.

“I’m _not_ jealous.” Keith whispered back, just as irritated. “I just don’t like him. He’s…” Keith paused, looking for the right word. “Shady.”

“Shady?” Lance said, eyebrows raised as he looked at Keith. The two had reached the supply table, each grabbing their respective mics and fastening them on. “He wasn’t doing anything shady. We were just talking.”

“Looked like he wanted more than to just talk.” Keith muttered, grabbing his body cam and fitting it around his chest.

Lance scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Forget it.” Keith said, purposefully not looking at Lance.

“Look, I just wanted to ask him why he specifically asked for me to be here.” Lance said with a tired sigh. “And it’s _not_  because he’s interested in me in any way.”

“Oh yeah? Then why?” Keith asked, irritation causing his fingers to stumble over the clasps of the body cam straps.

Gentle hands pushed his aside, nimble fingers working to adjust the body cam for Keith. He looked up to see an almost gentle look on Lance’s face, eyes turned towards his task. When he spoke, his voice was low, as if it was only meant for Keith’s ears.

“He said he wanted me here because he thinks the ghosts are more drawn to me. That because I’m such an avid believer, they are more willing to show themselves. Bigger chance to capture evidence and all that. More evidence means more popularity for this place which means more money from tourists. It’s a business strategy, nothing else.” Lance, now finished with adjusting Keith’s body cam, looked up, soft blue eyes meeting his own.“And even if it was something else, in what world do you think I would so easily give you up?”

Keith was speechless. He could feel his face going hot. Not from embarrassment, but rather from warm feeling that started to spread through his chest, radiating outwards until his whole body was tingling.

“Please tell me you got that on camera.” Pidge’s voice said, breaking the moment.

 “Of course I did.” Hunk replied, tone far too happy for the present situation. “And they’re miked too. It’s our lucky day.”

“We’ve been blessed with a truly magical Team Purple moment.” Pidge said, voice on the verge of fake tears.

Lance’s expression turned to one of annoyance again. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” Keith replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t tell you to say something cheesy like that. That was all you.”

“Yeah, well it’s your fault for getting all territorial. You’re like a wolf. Won’t let anyone new get near your pack.” Lance said, mimicking Keith’s stance.

“That’s enough, guys.” Shiro said, already sounding tired. “Allura, hit the lights. We’re gonna get started.”

Allura crossed the room to turn off the lights as the others formed a semi-circle around Shiro. As the lights shut off, the atmosphere in the room shifted, each member of the team focusing on the task in front of them.

“Alright,” Shiro said, his face only illuminated by the nearby lantern and the dying fire. “This is our first investigation with everyone back so let’s make it count. This place is pretty big so we’re gonna split into teams of two. It’s gonna be Hunk with one of the big cams and Allura, Keith and Pidge with a handheld. Lance, you’re with me. I’m taking the other big cam.”

“Team Christmas!” Pidge said, moving closer to Keith and punching him lightly on the arm.

“Team Christmas?” Keith asked, giving his short friend a confused look.

“Red and green.” Pidge said, a wide smile on their face. “Like Christmas. I came up with it after Lance made up the Team Purple thing.”

“Pidge! You weren’t supposed to tell him that…” Lance said, his voice a whine.

“Whoops, sorry. My bad.” Pidge replied, not looking the least bit guilty.

Keith only chuckled, eyes shifting to Lance who was pointedly avoiding eye contact.

“So here’s the assignments.” Allura said, completely ignoring the whole exchange. She was used to their antics by now. “Hunk and I will be heading to the third floor. That’s where all of the bedrooms are. Apparently one of the maids jumped off one of the balconies up there after she got pregnant. Now, she’s seen wandering from room to room up there. There have also been reports of a female voice crying and footsteps.”

“So sad…” Hunk commented.

“Pidge and Keith are headed down to the first floor. Philippe Galrion, the first owner of this house, died in the main sitting room after falling down the stairs. Reports say that voices have been heard coming from that room and sometimes the furniture will have moved without anyone having gone in the room.”

“Do they think it’s Philippe?” Pidge asked.

“Many do, but there’s never been a confirmed sighting of him so it’s hard to say.” Allura replied. “And lastly, Shiro and Lance are gonna be on this floor, just down the hall there is a parlor. There are reports of cold spots and sometimes the door to the room will slam closed without anyone touching it.”

Keith glanced over to see Lance’s face drain of color, his eyes growing wide in fear. Keith knew what phrase caused his reaction because it was the same phrase that had caused a sickening feeling to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“I think that’s my cue to head out for the night.” Lotor’s voice said from behind Keith, his tone pleasant. It made Keith’s skin crawl. The group turned to face him as he continued to talk. “I’ll be back to close up at the end of the night. If you run into any problems, I’ve left my number with Allura. Please do not hesitate to call.”

Shiro moved forwards, extending his hand towards Lotor. “Thank you so much for having us.” Shiro said, voice friendly as he shook the white-haired man’s hand. “We really appreciate it.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” Lotor replied before releasing Shiro’s hand and turning towards the door. He glanced back once over his shoulder, devilish eyes meeting Keith’s. “I sincerely hope you enjoy yourselves.”

And then he was gone, not even using a flashlight to navigate his way through the dark. Keith didn’t care what Lance thought. Lotor was as shady as they come.

“Make sure to grab a walkie.” Shiro said. “We’re meeting back here in an hour to change up teams. Let’s head out.”

“You okay?” Keith asked quietly as everyone headed to the supply table, noticing how Lance’s expression hadn’t changed.

“The door closes on its own, Keith.” Lance said, his voice a whimper. “Do you remember what happened last time a ghost closed a door? 'Cause I do!”

“Yes, of course I remember.” Keith replied gently. “But you’ve got Shiro with you. If you get trapped again he can just break down the door, no problem.”

“Seriously?” Lance said, tone hopeful.

“Seriously.” Keith replied, grabbing what he would need for the investigation off the table. “And if he can’t, just scream as loud as you can and I’ll come running.”

“Promise?”

“Promise."

Lance gave him a weak smile, a silent thank you being exchanged between the two before he turned away and headed over to where Shiro was pulling the second big cam out of its case.

“Ready to go?” Pidge asked from behind him.

“Yeah.” Keith said, turning to see Pidge holding one of the handhelds. “Let’s go catch us a ghost.”

The two were the first group to leave the room, Keith switching his flashlight on as the duo made their way down the hall, heading towards the stairs. Back out in the dark mansion, Keith felt eyes on him again, like something was waiting for him just beyond the reach of his flashlight. He was sure that it was all in his head. Nothing was there because nothing was almost always there.

Almost.

“So, Keith.” Pidge said, their voice light. “I think myself and the rest of the audience would like to know something.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Keith replied, reaching the end of the hall and starting down the stairs.

“Ghosts. What’s your stance?"

“Are you asking if I’ve renounced my skeptic title?”

“Yep.” Pidge replied straightforwardly.

Keith laughed softly. He briefly wondered how long Pidge had been holding that question in. “Would I say that ghosts are a hundred percent not real? No, not anymore.” Keith said, earning a little victory cry from Pidge. “ _But_ ,” Keith continued. “I still think that most of the evidence we capture is bullshit.”

“So, do you think this place is haunted then?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Sue me.”

Pidge let out a huff and Keith could practically hear them rolling their eyes. He didn’t pay too much mind to them, though, because they had reached their destination. Keith swept his flashlight beam across the room, noticing how large the space was - like every other room in the mansion. It had a fireplace much like the one at base camp, however this one looked like it hadn’t been lit in awhile. He also noticed two vintage-styled sofas that faced each other, a long coffee table situated in between the two. There was nothing on it save for a couple of brown coasters. A pair of small bookcases were against the far wall, looking like they hadn’t been touched in years. Off to the side a couple of chairs sat around a small table. That was probably the furniture that moved, if Keith had to take a guess.

Continuing to scan the room, Keith’s flashlight beam fell on the static cam they had placed in the room less than an hour ago. It no longer stood upright, instead having completely fallen over.

“Ah!” Pidge yelled, shoving the small handheld at Keith before rushing over to the fallen camera. “Please don’t be broken. Please don’t be broken. I just upgraded you and that cost _a lot_ of money so I’m begging you to not be broken!” They knelt by the camera, lifting it gently to inspect it.

“Who set this up?” Keith asked, aiming the camera in their direction.

“I did.” Pidge replied, worry still in their voice. “I wanted to make sure it was working properly.”

“And could you have accidentally knocked it over?”

“I mean, maybe?” Pidge said, standing up, righting the camera as they did. “But I feel like I would’ve heard it if I did, ya know? That’s kinda hard to miss.”

“The tripod isn’t broken or anything, is it?” Keith asked.

Pidge squatted to check the tripod, fingers testing the knobs to make sure they weren’t loose. “Not that I can see.” They replied after a few moments. “I know you don’t want to hear this Keith, but I don’t think this fell over from...natural causes.”

“Pidge.” Keith said, his voice even. “The camera is in line with the front door.” Keith pointed his light to the large mahogany door that could be seen through the sitting room doorway. “It was probably blown over by the wind when Lotor left.”

“That’s gotta be some mega powerful wind.” Pidge replied, unimpressed.

“All I’m saying is that a camera falling over isn’t paranormal. It could be a million things before it’s a ghost. Maybe the floor is uneven. Maybe your upgrade made it unbalanced. Do you see my point?”

Pidge bit their lip in thought, glancing at the camera again. “Yeah, I guess. But let’s move its position in case the floor is uneven. I don’t want it falling over again.”

“Good idea.” Keith said with nod.

The two took a couple of minutes to move the camera out of the way of the doorway, placing it in one of the corners of the room. Pidge even went so far as to grab a couple of the heavier books from the bookshelves to lean against the legs of the tripod, weighing it down just in case.

“There.” Pidge said, taking a step back to admire their work. “Problem solved.”

“Ready to finally get some real investigating done?”

“Hell yeah. Let’s do it.” Pidge replied, walking over to the table Keith had left the handheld on and picking it up. “You brought an audio recorder, right?”

“Just because I haven’t been on an investigation in awhile doesn’t mean I’ve become an idiot.” Keith replied dryly, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the device, holding it up so Pidge could see it.

“Debatable.” Pidge replied. “But let’s reach out. Maybe Philippe is feeling chatty.”

“Did he even speak English?” Keith asked as he turned the recorder on.

“No idea.” Pidge said. “But let’s at least give it a shot.”

Keith responded by pressing record and then setting it down of the small table. “Keith and Pidge. First floor, sitting room. Session one.”

“Is there a Philippe Galrion here with us tonight?” Pidge asked to the dark room.

They were met with silence.

“Is there someone else with us?” Keith asked after a few moments.

Keith felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the oppressive feeling of eyes staring into his back amplifying. Keith turned quickly, shining his light behind him, eyes searching for the source of the feeling. There was nothing.

“What’s up?” Pidge asked curiously.

“Dunno.” Keith replied after a moment. “Just felt weird.”

“Felt weird?”

“Yeah. Remember when Lance said something about this place seemed off? I think I get what he means.” Keith turned back to face them.

“What? Like this place is actually haunted?”

Keith shook his head. “Not like that. I think it’s more like how the house is laid out. It’s so open that it makes you feel...exposed.”

“It’s a different brand of creepy.” Pidge said.

“Exactly. Different from the normal creepy we deal with.”

“You’re not gonna turn into a Lance on me, are you?” Pidge asked, their voice teasing.

Keith rolled his eyes. “I think I’ll manage.”

Pidge snickered softly before clearing their throat and saying, “If there is anyone here with us, my name is Pidge, this is Keith. Can you say our names back to us?”

The two waited in silence.

“Can you give us a sign that you’re here?” Keith asked.

There was only more silence.

“Philippe doesn’t want to talk tonight it seems.” Pidge commented.

“Almost as if he’s not real.” Keith said sarcastically.

“Or maybe he just needs a little help.” Pidge said. “Let’s do the flashlight thing.”

Keith couldn’t help the groan he let out. “The flashlight thing is so stupid. How many times do I have to explain to you that a flashlight turning on isn’t paranormal?”

“As I’ve said, it’s not paranormal. _But_ a flashlight turning on _on command_ is.” Pidge countered, their voice stern. “C’mon. Humor me.”

Keith sighed, knowing that Pidge wouldn’t stop asking until they got what they wanted. “Fine. But just this once.”

He ignored Pidge’s victorious smile as he unscrewed his Maglite until the light turned off, setting it on the table next to the audio recorder. “I just want to go on the record here for a sec.” Keith said. “I think this is all bullshit.”

“Yes, everyone knows that you’re a major party pooper.” Pidge replied dryly. “Now ask the questions.”

Keith shot a glare at his small friend before saying, “If there’s anyone here, can you turn the light on?”

The two stared silently at the flashlight as it remained unlit.

“Since no one is here can we stop this idiocy?” Keith asked, still looking at the light.

“Keith, I swear to god.” Pidge replied, clearly irritated.

Keith sighed, “If you want us to leave, turn on the light.”

Pidge moved closer to the table as they waited for the light to turn on. It never did.

“If you want us to stay, turn on the light.” Keith said, growing more impatient with this waste of their time.

The light turned on instantly, making Pidge jump and back away. “Oh shit!” They said, their voice raising in excitement. “Oh shit! Oh shit!”

“Give me a break…” Keith said, annoyed. “That doesn’t mean anything!”

“Yes it does!” Pidge replied. “It turned on right after you finished talking! That’s _not_ a coincidence.”

“Yeah, well it’s not a ghost either.” Keith said.

“Oh yeah? Can you turn the light off if you don’t want us to leave?”

The light went out and Keith thought Pidge was going to have a stroke.

“Fuck, dude! Did you see that? That’s insane!”

“I think you’re what’s insane here.” Keith deadpanned.

Pidge ignored him, continuing to ramble about how they caught some “dope-ass evidence” and that they were definitely going to prove that this place was haunted.

Keith let them have their freak out, taking the time to pick up his flashlight and screw it back together. He decided he had enough pseudoscience for one night.

“Can we please get back to some real investigating?” Keith asked after Pidge had calmed down some.

“Jeez, you’re such a buzzkill.” Pidge said with an annoyed huff. “If Lance were here he’d think we caught a ghost.”

“Lance thinks everything is a ghost.” Keith replied. “He once woke me up at 2am because he was convinced a ghost was banging on the walls.”

“Was it? A ghost, I mean.” Pidge asked.

“Pidge,” Keith said seriously. “I live in an apartment building. I have neighbors on almost all sides. I’ll let you do the math as to where the noise was coming from.”

 Pidge laughed, shaking their head in disbelief. “Oh man, I love Lance to death but he can be just...so extra sometimes.”

“You think that is extra? He refused to sleep at my place for the next two weeks.”

Keith couldn’t help but chuckle as Pidge laughed harder, their voice filling up the room and echoing out into the foyer. “He’s...so...stupid…” They said between laughs.

Keith’s reply was cut short by the crackle of the walkie talkie on his hip. “Are you guys okay down there? We can hear Green all the way from the second floor. Over.” It was Lance’s voice. He sounded worried, frightened even.

“Speak of the devil…” Keith said, smirking at Pidge who had muffled their laughs by covering their mouth. Keith unhooked the radio and raised it to his mouth. “Yeah, we’re fine. Green says they love you very much and you should never change. Over.”

There was a pause, Keith chuckling as he waited for Lance to respond.

“Are you guys making fun of me? Over.” Lance said, sounding slightly defensive.

“We wouldn’t dare. Over.” Keith replied, keeping his voice light and innocent.

“Bullshit.” Came Lance’s response. “You guys are the worst. Also, Black and I are heading back to base early. We’re getting no activity here. Over.”

“Same here.” It was Allura’s voice that came through the walkie this time. “We’ll head back too. Over.”

“We’ll wrap up early too then and meet you guys soon. Over.” Keith said before lowering the walkie. “Ready to go?”

“Yep.” Pidge said, having recovered from their laughing fit. “Let’s head out.”

It only took the two a few minutes to return to base camp. They were the second of the three teams to arrive, Shiro and Lance having gotten there first. Keith made his way to the supply table where Lance was standing, back turned towards him. His shoulder looked more relaxed than at the start of the night.

“So nothing weird happened?” Keith asked as he came to stand beside him.

Lance glanced over at him. “Not so far, thank god. What about you guys?”

Keith shrugged. “Not really.”

Lance eyed him suspiciously. “That’s not a real answer. What happened?”

Keith sighed. “You know if I told you, it would just freak you out. Is that what you want?”

Lance was silent for a moment, staring down the EMF in his hands, turning over the device to switch out the batteries. His brows were furrowed, no doubt debating something in his head. Keith waited, giving Lance time to properly decide.

“Yeah.” Lance finally said. “Because last time something tried to warn us, but we didn’t realize it until it was too late. I don’t want that to happen again. I need to know.

“You sure?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded. “I’m sure.”

“The flashlight turned on and off on command!” Pidge said excitedly from the other side of the table. “Keith was all like ‘turn the fucking light on if you want us to stay’-”

“I don’t sound like that and I didn’t phrase it that way.” Keith cut in, giving Pidge a flat look.

“And then the light frickin’ lit up! It’s was awesome!” Pidge continued, ignoring Keith.

Lance went stiff, his eyes going wide. “I regret my decision…” Lance’s voice was weak, practically a whimper.

Keith swallowed the laugh that had threatened to escape him. Lance’s reaction was so pure that it was almost endearing. Keith didn’t even try to convince Lance that the stupid flashlight turning on meant nothing; he knew it would only fall on deaf ears.

“Also!” Pidge said, still excited. “Keith got a weird feeling...which is, like, a first for him. I didn’t think he could feel at all.”

“Hey, I’m not a rob-ah!” Keith was stopped short by firm hands grabbing his shoulders, turning him so he was forced to stare into piercing blue eyes.

“Tell me what you felt.” Lance demanded, his tone low, serious.

Keith reached up to grip his wrists, attempting to pry Lance’s hands from his shoulders. “It was nothing, really. There’s nothing to be freaking out over.”

“ _Keith_.” Lance said, his tone stopping Keith’s movements in his tracks. It wasn’t often Lance used that voice, but Keith knew what it meant. It meant that Lance wouldn’t stop until Keith answered the question. It meant that Lance had transcended being serious and was now in the realm of being dead serious. It meant that Lance had pushed his own fears aside in order to protect someone he cared for. “What did you feel?”

Keith glanced over at Pidge who had a shocked expression on their face. Keith suspected they hadn’t expected Lance to react the way he did either. He shifted his eyes back to Lance, noticing the way he had his jaw clenched, how tightly he was gripping Keith’s shoulders, how his breath came out low and even, no longer the unsteady breaths of someone who was afraid.

“Eyes.” Keith finally said.

“How many?”

“Just one set.”

“Where?”

Keith paused, reluctant to answer.

“Keith. Where?” Lance’s grip grew tighter on his shoulders.

“Everywhere.”

“You need to leave. Now.” Lance said without a moment’s hesitation.

“What? No, I’m not leaving.” Keith said, finally tearing Lance’s hands from his shoulders.

Lance’s intensity didn’t fade, his voice raising in pitch as a result. “First you tell me that a ghost told you it wanted you to stay and then you tell me something has been watching you. Clearly, something is out to get you. You need to go.”

Keith rolled his eyes, crossing his arm over his chest. “This is why I never should’ve told you anything. The flashlight thing is complete horseshit. You breathe too hard at one of those Maglites and they’ll turn on. And as I told Pidge, the only reason I’m feeling like I’m being watched is because this house is so open. Nothing more and nothing less.”

Lance glared at him, a fire dancing in his eyes. “You’re just in denial. And I’ll be damned if I’m just gonna do _nothing_ as something stalks and kills you!”

“Woah, who’s being killed?” Shiro cut in, no doubt overhearing their raised voices.

“No one.” Keith replied, looking over at Shiro who had approached the small group from where he had been checking over the sound board to make sure everything was still running smoothly. He also noticed Allura and Hunk standing just inside the doorway to the room, concerned expressions on their faces. “Lance is just overreacting like he always does.”

“I’m _not_ overreacting! I think I’m the only one who’s reacting enough.” Lance spat at him, anger lacing his words.

Keith felt his temper rising as well. “What you’re doing is being ridiculous and pretty fucking annoying.”

“Guys.” Shiro said, his tone firm. “This really isn’t the time for this.”

“Well _excuse me_ for caring!” Lance said, either not hearing Shiro through his rage or just deciding to ignore him. “If I remember correctly, you said you liked that about me. Well, here I am! Trying to care about a dumbass like you and you think I’m annoying! Was it a lie? Was everything you said at the asylum just one big lie?”

Keith felt something in him snap. It was like a switch had been flipped, sending a rage coursing through him that he couldn’t control. And if Keith was being honest, he didn’t want to.

“Of course not! But ya know what? I take back what I said! You were a coward then and you’re a coward now! And I’m not gonna run away just because you have some moronic hunch that I’m in danger when _nothing paranormal has happened!_ ”

“Open your goddamn eyes, Keith!” Lance shot back at him. “Stop pretending like everything is just a coincidence!”

“Why don’t you stop pretending that every little noise is something out to get you?! Newsflash! You’re not that special!”

“That’s enough!”

Both Keith and Lance froze as Shiro’s voice filled the room, his usual calm demeanor nowhere to be found. As Keith looked at his older brother, he recognized the telltale signs of a pissed off Shiro. His eyes were dark, all traces of kindness replaced with a coldness that let everyone know he wasn’t going to take anymore shit. His arms were crossed over his chest, muscles flexed just a little too tightly to be natural. He seemed to tower over them, a metaphorical shadow of pure, unchallenged power enveloping both him and Lance.

“Ghost or no ghost, I don’t care.” Shiro said, his voice dark. “What I do care about is the quality of our show. And right now, you two are treating it like some third-rate soap opera. I don’t want to see that. Your other team members don’t want to see that. And our audience doesn’t want to see that.”

Keith felt a new pang of guilt with every word Shiro spoke. He wasn’t wrong and Keith knew that. He hadn’t meant to let his anger get the better of him. It had just taken hold and he had ran with it.

“So until you two can calm down and show me you can work as a team, you’re staying here.” Shiro finished.

“You’re benching us?” Keith asked, his voice small, yet shocked.

“Until you can get your acts together, yes.” Shiro replied. “In the meantime, the rest of us are going to get to work.” Shiro left no room for discussion as he grabbed one of the big cams off the supply table. “Allura, you’re with me. Pidge go with Hunk. Allura, catch us up to speed on the way.”

Keith stood motionless, brain turned to a pile of guilty mush, as he watched his team members file out of the room quietly. Pidge glanced back at them, an empathetic look on their face before they disappeared out into the dark hallway. Now it was just him and Lance, both still standing in the same spots they had been before the fight. Keith chanced a look at Lance, not sure what was going through the taller boy’s head. His face was blank, expression unreadable.

That wasn’t a good sign.

He and Lance had never really seen eye-to-eye. It had been that way from the moment they had first met. Lance was loud, boisterous...flamboyant even. Keith wasn’t that. Keith was reserved, careful, quiet. Lance was genuine and sensitive while Keith hid his feelings behind witty quips and backhanded compliments. Lance threw himself wholeheartedly into something, never caring about the backlash he might receive. Keith was more of a one-foot-out-the-door kinda guy, pulling away before he had a chance to be hurt.

With such different personalities, it was no wonder they clashed as often as they did growing up. So many people had told him that they shouldn’t be friends if they were just going to fight all the time, and after awhile, he had started to believe those people. How could he be friends with someone so different from himself? It just didn’t make any sense.

When he brought the topic up to Lance, even going so far as to suggest they stop being friends, Lance had simply given him a firm look and said, “If I wasn’t around to pull your dumb ass out of the fire, no one would be. You’d be dead in a week. So sorry, you’re stuck with me.”

It was that one moment all the way back in middle school that had opened Keith’s eyes to just how amazing Lance was. That was the day that Keith had fallen so hard and so fast that he hadn’t had time to breathe. It was like the world had opened up in front of him, bursting into brilliant colors the likes of which he had never seen before.

And although his newfound feelings were fresh and exciting, Keith was still himself at his core. He locked his feelings away, afraid that if Lance were to find out, he would be disgusted by Keith or at the very least not want to talk to him again. He hid his feelings behind playful banter and teasing. Keith became really good at getting a rise out of the other, learning what exact buttons he needed to push in order to set Lance off. It turned into his favorite game; each time he played a chorus of butterflies would dance in his stomach and his heart would threaten to jump right out of his chest.

Keith had continued to mask his feelings even after they had started their amateur ghost hunting show. He told himself it was easier that way, for him and for Lance. But, in truth, that hadn’t always been the case. Sometimes it was inexplicably hard. Like when Keith would see Lance with bags under his eyes after a particularly active ghost hunt. He knew Lance hadn’t gotten any sleep, but Lance had never complained about it so Keith had never brought it up. Or like when Lance would hide away in the van, trying with all his might to muster the courage to stand alongside his friends as they faced his worst fear. Keith knew that was a constant uphill battle for him and he had wished he knew of a better way to help Lance than to bait him out of the van with threats.

Of course, the asylum changed all that. A lot of horrific memories came out of that place, but he was still grateful that it had finally allowed him to show Lance just how important he was to Keith. He hadn’t planned to confess his almost eight-year-long crush to Lance that night, but he also hadn’t planned to get trapped in a morgue either. As the two were sitting in the total darkness together, all Keith could think about was dying without Lance ever knowing. He didn’t want that. So in the oppressive darkness of the morgue, Keith had laid it all out for Lance. He had never imagined that his feelings would be reciprocated.

But they had been.

And now, all of that could have just gone down the drain. And it was _his_ fault.

He and Lance had never really seen eye-to-eye. But not once had Keith ever seen such an empty look on Lance’s face. Their arguments had never had any real malice behind them. Each knew that the words exchanged were not real. But this argument had been real. It had been very _very_ real and Keith had said some very _very_ awful things.

Keith couldn’t take back what he said. No, it was far too late for that. But he also didn’t want to lose Lance. He knew that Lance’s own anger came from a place of love. It was born from his inherent need to keep the people he cared about most safe. So, Keith couldn’t really fault him for that, nor did he want to. That was who Lance was and he didn’t want him to change.

“You’re mad.”

That probably wasn’t the best thing Keith could’ve said. There were probably a million other ways Keith should have started the conversation. But at that moment that was the best he could do. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing.

Lance didn’t respond, the look on his face not changing. Keith felt his gut twist. Shit, he had really fucked up.

“Really mad.”

Still, Lance said nothing. Keith felt an anxiety building in him, causing him to shift from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

“Please say something.”

Lance’s eyes finally met Keith’s, the look piercing. It took everything in Keith’s power not to flinch away.

“What would you like me to say?” Lance’s voice was calm, an evenness to it that sent a shiver down Keith’s spine. This was not a Lance he was used to and it was so much worse than the Lance who had just been screaming at him. “Do you want me to yell at you? Tell you that you’re the worst? Say that I don’t care that you’re being stalked by some ghost?”

“No, that’s not-”

“Or maybe you want me to apologize. You want me to say that I overreacted. That I was just making things up because I was scared.”

“I don’t wa-”

“Well, I’m not gonna do that, Keith. I’m not gonna do any of that because what’s the point? In the end you’ll still stay. You’ll still go back out there and investigate. And then when something happens, I’ll be the one who’s to blame. Because _I_ didn’t stop you. Because _I_ was supposed to keep you safe.”

And suddenly it didn’t matter whether or not there was some ghost after him. It didn’t matter whether or not Keith thought the flashlight turning on was bullshit. It didn’t matter what Keith believed to be real or not real. Because Lance believed it. To Lance, this was all real. And if Keith had to guess, he was just tired of watching the people he cared for regularly put themselves in danger.

“If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.” Keith said, his voice gentle, understanding.

“What?” Lance asked, disbelief appearing on his face.

“If me leaving is going to make you feel better, I’ll do it.” Keith replied, taking a step closer to Lance and placing a hand gently on the side of his face, fingertips brushing lightly against his skin.

“Seriously? You’d do that?” Lance’s hand reached up to grasp Keith’s wrist. He didn’t try to pull Keith’s hand away, instead he held it in place, like he was trying to reassure himself.

“I would.” Keith said. “Do you still want me to?”

Lance was silent for a moment, his eyes shifting down before looking back at Keith. “...Yeah.”

Keith’s response was cut off by the sound of a bang that came from the other side of the room. He could feel Lance stiffen under his touch, eyes going wide.

“What was that?” Lance’s asked softly, a tremble in his voice.

Keith pulled his hand away from Lance’s face, Lance releasing his wrist as he did. “Stay here.” Keith said, voice stable.

Keith moved around the couches and chairs, heading towards where the sound had come from. It didn’t take him long to locate the source.

“A book.” Keith said, crossing the room to pick up the book that had fallen to the ground. It looked to be one of the older books of the collection, the red leather faded and worn, gold lettering of the title scratched off in some places.

“A book?” Lance asked from across the room.

“Yeah.” Keith said, holding it up for him to see. “Must’ve fallen off the shelf.”

“A book doesn’t just fall off the shelf on its own.” Lance squeaked out, his face draining of color.

“This place is old, Lance.” Keith said, turning towards the shelf the book had probably fallen from, looking for it’s previous spot so he could put it back. “Old places are built poorly; the floor is usually slanted or the foundation is weak. Sometimes both. So when the house settles, things shift. Slanting floors and shifting wood equals things falling over. Used to happen at my house all the time growing up.”

“Or.” Lance said weakly. “You were just living with a ghost and didn’t know it.”

Keith snorted as he found the empty spot on the shelf, sliding the book back into place. “Yeah, I doubt that.” Keith turned back to face Lance. “I promise that was nothing supernatural.”

“We’re still gonna get outta here, though, right?”

“Yeah, I just need to-”

_\- bang -_

Keith jumped as another book hit the ground a few feet next to him. It was a brown book this time, slightly newer than the previous one. “Christ…” Keith said, trying to calm himself down after the burst of adrenaline.

“Keith…” Lance said, taking a small step backwards. “There’s no way that fell on it’s own. I saw it-”

_\- bang -_

This time the book landed on Keith’s right, much to close for comfort. He didn’t wait around for another to fall, instead jumping away from the bookcases. “What the fuck?”

“Time to go!” Lance’s voice was panicked, bordering on hysterical.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Keith replied, rushing to grab Lance’s hand and pull him out of the room, only stopping long enough to grab a flashlight. He pulled Lance out into the hallway, not daring to look back as three more bangs echoed behind them. His breath came out in pants and his heart beat against his chest as he moved towards the other end of the hall. The familiar feeling of eyes staring into this back returned as he reached the end, still dragging Lance behind him. Their footsteps were loud as they raced down the large staircase, the sound bouncing off the walls of the large foyer. His hand was sweaty in Lance’s, the perspiration caused by the waves of fear that were rolling through him.

Keith’s flashlight beam fell on the large front door and he let out a sigh of relief. They were almost there. They were almost safe from whatever had caused those books to fall. Keith let go of Lance’s hand when the two reached the door, instead grabbing onto the polished handle. He pulled hard, not really caring if he damaged the door or not.

It didn’t move.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Keith said, pulling the door over and over again. “Not again. This can’t be happening again!”

“Maybe it’s locked…” Lance suggested weakly, sounding like he was saying it more for his benefit than Keith’s.

Keith shined the flashlight at the handle, looking for the small knob to unlock it. There wasn’t one. In fact, there wasn’t anything that looked even remotely like a lock. “What kinda front door doesn’t have a lock?!”

“It has a lock.” Lance said, grasping Keith’s sleeve to catch his attention. Keith looked at him, noticing instantly how close Lance was to having a full-fledged breakdown. “I noticed it on the way in. I thought it was weird that the lock was on the outside...”

“What? You mean like…” Keith trailed off, his brain coming to one horrific conclusion. “We’re locked _in_.”

Lance nodded weakly, eyes searching the surrounding darkness like he was expecting something to jump out at them.

“Lotor.” Keith said, his voice coming out dangerous, almost violent sounding. “I _knew_ that bastard was up to something. This is his doing!”

“I don’t understand. Why would he lock us in?” Lance asked.

Keith shook his head. “I don’t know. But we need to find some way out.”

“What about everyone else? They’re in here too.”

Keith reached for the walkie talkie that was still attached to his hip. “They need to get out too. This place isn’t safe.” Keith raised it to his mouth before saying, “Guys, does anyone read me? Over.”

The two waited, listening to the crackle of the radio. There wasn’t a response.

“I’m getting some serious deja vu…” Lance said quietly.

Keith ignored him, instead trying again. “Is anyone there? It’s important. Over.”

The two were only met with static again.

“Try calling them.” Keith said, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone, Lance doing the same. “I’m gonna try to get ahold of Shiro.”

“I’ll call Hunk.” Lance said.

Keith was doing everything in his power to keep his hands from shaking as he called Shiro. He kept reminding himself that he had to keep his cool. One of them had to be able to think straight and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Lance.

Keith held his phone up to his ear, praying that Shiro would pick up. He needed to warn them that something bad was going down. More than that, though, he needed to know that everyone was okay. But with each ring that sounded in Keith’s ear, his fear rose within him. Why wasn’t Shiro picking up? Had something already gotten to them? Why the fuck did this always happen to him?

“I’m sorry. The person you are trying to reach can’t come-”

Keith hung up, quickly finding Allura’s contact info and calling her. “Please pick up. Please pick up. Please pick up…” Keith muttered as the call rang out.

“I’m sorry. The person-”

“Motherfucker.” Keith spat out, resisting the urge to throw his phone against the wall.

“No luck here either…” Lance said, his hand shaking as he put his phone back in his pocket. “Maybe we should call the police…”

That certainly wasn’t a bad idea. They could at least come and unlock the door...and maybe even arrest Lotor. Keith would enjoy that. “I’ll try.” Keith dialed 9-1-1 and put it on speaker so both could hear.

They listened to it ring twice before they heard, “I’m sorry. The person you are trying to reach can’t come to the phone right now. If you would like to leave a message-”

Keith’s phone slipped from his hand, crashing to the tiled floor, the screen shattering as it did, effectively ending the call.

“I don’t…” Keith said, staring down at his broken phone. “I don’t understand. There isn’t supposed to be a voicemail for 9-1-1…”

“We need to get out of this place.” Lance said, grabbing Keith’s shoulders. “Now. We need to get out so we can get help and find our friends.”

“And how are we supposed to do that, exactly?” Keith replied. “The door is locked from the _outside,_ remember?”

“There’s gotta be another way out, right? With a place this big?” Lance said. “Or maybe we can open a window. I dunno, but he gotta try.”

“Okay, okay.” Keith said, nodding slightly, trying to remember anything useful from his walk through the mansion earlier that night. “Um, I think there was a back door or something in kitchen. We could start there.”

“Let’s do that.” Lance replied, eyes searching the dark again. “It’s better than standing around here. Who knows? Maybe we’ll even run into one of them on the way.” Lance’s voice wasn’t very convincing. They both knew that the likelihood of them just stumbling upon one of their teammates was small. But right now, Keith wasn’t going to think about that. He wasn’t going to think about how they were trapped inside with something that really didn’t seem that friendly. He wasn’t going to think about how his teammates might have already ran into that something. He wasn’t even going to think about the fact that Lotor had probably locked them in _knowing_ what was inside.

No, Keith was only going to focus on getting to the kitchen and trying to open the backdoor. If he focused on that, he could keep his fear in check. Probably. It was worth a shot.

“Do you remember how to get there?” Lance asked, his hands falling away from Keith’s shoulders.

“I think so…” Keith replied slowly.

“Doesn’t sound like you remember.” Lance stuttered nervously.

“There are signs everywhere. We’ll find it.” Keith said, making his voice more confident than he felt. “C’mon.”

Keith offered his hand to Lance who took it instantly, long fingers lacing with his own. Keith started towards the hallway on the left side of the foyer, pulling Lance along with him. Lance’s grip was tight, his hand crushing Keith’s. Keith didn’t mind, though. He’d much rather suffer Lance’s death grip than Lance not be there at all.

Keith shined their one flashlight in front of them as they entered the dark hallway that hopefully led them to the kitchen. The air around them was oppressive, like the whole mansion was out to get them. It weighed on Keith’s shoulders, two large hands pressing down on him as he forced himself to walk forward. The only sound was their breathing, Keith’s breaths long and drawn out while Lance’s were short and heavy. The tension was thick, almost suffocating.

“Hey, Keith?” Lance said quietly.

“Yeah?” Keith replied.

“This is just a suggestion, but we could, ya know, just turn on the lights. There’s no reason for us to be walking around in the dark.”

The tension shattered as Keith stopped dead in his tracks. What the fuck was wrong with him? _Of course_ they could just turn on the lights. This wasn’t some horror movie where they were forced to be in the dark while being hunted by some evil being. No, they could be hunted by some evil being with the lights on.

“Keith? You okay?” Lance asked, breaking Keith’s train of thought.

“We are the biggest idiots.” Keith said, shaking his head in disappointment. “Fuck, maybe we deserve to die. Yes, let’s just turn the fucking lights on.”

“We need to find the switch first.” Lance said.

“I think it’s back the way we came.” Keith replied. “If I remember correctly.” Keith turned and moved the flashlight beam along the hall walls, taking a few steps back down the hallway. Lance’s hand was still firmly clasped in his, but the grip had loosened slightly.

“There.” Keith said, beam illuminating the white light switch on the wall. He moved towards it, pulling Lance along with him. Reaching the switch, Keith flipped it with his free hand, a slight popping sounds echoing down the hall.

The hall remained dark.

Keith flipped the switch again.

Nothing happened.

And again.

The only light in the hallway came from Keith’s flashlight.

“I wanna say I didn’t see this coming…” Keith muttered.

“Is it too early to say we’re gonna die?” Lance’s choked voice said from behind him.

“We’re not gonna die.” Keith replied. He wasn’t sure how much he agreed with his own statement, but he wasn’t about to let Lance know that. “We just need to find a way out of this place. C’mon.”

Keith started leading him down the dark hall again, doing everything in his power to just keep his feet moving forward. That was really all he could do. Just take one step at a time and hope to god that it wasn’t his last. Every doorway they passed produced a fresh batch of goosebumps on his arms. He didn’t dare look into the dark rooms, afraid that he would see something sinister lurking within.

Something followed them, he could feel it. It danced on the edge of his vision, always just barely out of sight. It taunted him, sending pockets of cold that brushed his face and sunk deep into his skin. It watched them, waiting. For what, Keith wasn’t sure and he didn’t think he wanted to find out.

“You’re not a coward.” Keith said, needing something to distract himself from his unseen audience.

“What?” Lance replied, his voice quiet in the dark hall.

“What I said before. Back at the base camp. I didn’t mean it.” Keith replied, a guilty undertone to his voice.

“Oh, that.” Lance said. “I mean, you weren’t wrong…”

“What are you talking about? That’s _not_ true.” Keith said a little too forcefully.

“It _is_ true.” Lance replied, a forced bitter laugh escaping him. “Look at us. The only reason I’m not huddled in some corner is because you’re here. And even back at the asylum, I couldn’t do _anything_. It was you who kept your cool the whole time. No way I could ever do that…”

“Lance, just because-”

“Keith, you said it yourself. I was a coward then and I’m a coward now. Bravery isn’t a part of the equation.” His voice had dropped, regret hanging off his every word.

“We’re different kinds of brave.” Keith said, stopping and looking back at him, soft indigo eyes meeting sunken blue ones.

“Different kinds…?”

“That’s right.” Keith replied, sending the taller boy a small smile. “I’m the stupid kind. The reckless kind. Curiosity killed the cat and all that.” That earned a small chuckle from Lance.

“Don’t I know it...so what kind am I?”

“The best kind.” Keith said, gently squeezing Lance’s hand as he spoke. “The kind that knows bravery isn’t unlimited. The kind that saves it for the right moment. So... _be_ afraid. As long as you want. Because as long as you’re afraid, I know things aren’t that bad. And _that_ makes me be brave.”

Lance’s eyes were shining bright in the dark of the hallway. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, a small blush forming on his face. “Ya know, a lot of pointless shit comes out of your mouth. But every once in a while you say the right thing.”

“I feel like I should be offended by that.” Keith replied dryly.

Lance shook his head, pulling Keith closer to him. Warm arms wrapped around him, Lance burying his face in Keith’s shoulder. Closing his eyes, Keith breathed in the familiar smell of cinnamon and pine, Lance’s smell blocking out the horror of the mansion.

“I love you…” Lance mumbled into his shoulder barely loud enough for Keith to hear.

Keith smiled to himself, his heart fluttering in his chest. “Love you, too.”

Their small moment of comfort was broken by a loud, blood-curdling scream that ripped through the mansion, piercing that two boys, causing them to stiffen.

“That sounded like…” Lance whispered as the scream faded.

“Allura!” Keith said as Lance let go of him.

“Where was it coming from?” Lance asked frantically, eyes shifting from one side of the hallway to the other.

“I-I’m not sure but-”

Keith was cut off by another scream, just as loud and soul-crushing as the first one.

“That way!” Keith said, pointing further down the hallway. “It’s coming from over there.”

“Let’s go!” Lance said as he and Keith both broke into a run, heading towards the source of the scream. Their feet pounded against the hardwood floors of the mansion, their breath coming out in pants. Reaching the end, the two turned right, racing towards Allura. Keith tried to not think about what they would do if they found her hurt as another scream echoed around them.

“I think it’s coming from that room!” Lance said from Keith’s side, pointing at an open door that was coming up on their left.

Keith only nodded, slowing as they reached the door. The two entered the room, Keith frantically moving his flashlight beam around, trying to locate their teammate. It looked like they were in some sort of display room, glass cases spread along the walls and white pedestals littering the floor. Strange, ornate objects were housed in the cases, each one looking like it cost a fortune. Keith paid no mind to them, instead looking for white hair or dropped equipment or _something_.

“No one’s here.” Lance said from beside Keith, his breathing labored.

“But those screams were definitely coming from here.” Keith said, frustrated. “Where did she go?”

“Maybe…” Lance said, his voice catching slightly. “Maybe she was never here...maybe we were lured here…” It sounded like he was two seconds away from fainting.

“Meaning this was a-fuck!” Keith wasted no time. He turned to Lance, shoving the flashlight into his startled boyfriend’s hand. He then placed his hands on Lance’s shoulders and pushed him backwards with all his might. Lance let out a yelp as he stumbled backwards and out into the hall. Keith only caught a glimpse of Lance’s startled face before the door slammed closed, trapping Keith in the pitch black room.

“Keith!” Lance’s voice shouted from the other side of the door. The door shook as he frantically pounded his fists against it, the doorknob shaking slightly as he tried to open it.

“I’m here.” Keith called weakly, taking a couple steps towards the door, hands outstretched in the darkness. He felt the thick wood brush against his fingers and then moved to lean against it, forehead pressed to the sturdy wood. He closed his eyes, trying to hide from the reality he found himself in.

“I can’t open the door... “ Lance’s voice called back to him, sounding like he was on the brink of tears.

“I know.” Keith replied, trying to find whatever comfort he could in the fact that Lance wasn’t trapped in the room with him. “You need to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you. Not now. Not ever.”

“Listen to me.” Keith said, steeling his voice. “This thing is after me, not you. I don’t know why, but it is. And as much as that sucks, it means that you can find the others and get out.”

“But what about you?” Lance asked quietly.

Keith didn’t reply, not sure if he could bring himself to say the truth that he had come to realize.

“Keith?” Lance asked a little louder, voice panicked.

“I don’t…” Keith said, forcing the words out. “I don’t think I’m walking away from this one.”

The door shook as Lance’s fist slammed against it. “Don’t you fucking _dare_ say that. Don’t you fucking give up on me. I will get you out of there if it’s the last thing I do.” He was angry, his words coming out clipped and sharp.

Keith let out a breathy, half-hearted laugh. “So brave...shit must’ve hit the fan.”

“Shut up.” Lance said. “We’re fine. I have a plan.”

“Oh, do tell.” Keith said, smirking slightly to himself. Determined Lance was one of his favorite Lance’s. He really didn’t take any shit from anyone.

“You said Shiro can break down doors, right?”

Keith snorted. “Yeah, probably. He goes to the gym more than you do.”

“Then all I gotta do is find Shiro. He’s gotta be in here somewhere.” Lance said.

“This place is huge.” Keith pointed out. “How’re you gonna find him?”

“I don’t know.” Lance said softly, voice barely audible through the thick door. “But I gotta try. I’m not giving up on you.”

“Well…” Keith replied, his chest swelling. “You better get moving.”

“Stay safe.” Lance said, a strain to his voice.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

There was one more small tap on the door before Keith heard the sound of footsteps moving down the hall. Lance was gone. Keith prayed that he would make it back before it was too late.

Keith was alone.

He opened his eyes, turning so his back was pressed against the door. He slid down until he was seated on the floor, legs spread out in front of him. He couldn’t see anything. He had no idea what else could be in the room with him, but he could definitely _feel_ something. It was everywhere and nowhere. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, fear clutching at his stomach, causing his palms to sweat.

“Never again.” Keith said into the darkness just to hear something. “No more ghost hunting. Two near death experiences is enough for me. I’m tapping out. Hell, that’s even _if_ I survive.”

Keith was silent for a moment, listening to the quiet of the room.

“The nice thing about being miked is that it’s recording everything I say. Which means that if I don’t make it, well, I can decide what my final words everyone will hear will be. And that’s pretty cool, if you think about it.”

Another pause. Keith was searching for the right words.

“I never thought about my future very much. I have always just kinda gone with the flow. But for the first time, I’m picturing what I would like it to be. Probably only because I might not get to have one. Which is fucked up. But whatever. Everything about this situation is fucked up.” Keith let out a curt, bitter laugh.

“Nothing fancy. No beach houses or big travel plans. That’s not really my style. Something simple, something small. Move to a tiny town where everyone knows each other. Buy a house on the edge of town. We’d become the talk of the town. Lance and I. Ya know, like, who are those two mysterious guys who just moved in? Are they brothers?”

Keith laughed into the darkness; this time it was genuine.

“Why do small town people think that two guys living together _have_ to be brothers even if they look nothing alike. Shit, Lance and I aren’t even the same ethnicity but they’d still think we were related. But we’d never explicitly say that we are dating. So the rumors and the questions would just grow and everyone in the town would just collectively lose their shit.”

Keith laughed to himself again, picturing the mayhem.

“We start a new channel together, documenting the whole thing. Maybe people would watch it, maybe not. Either way, we could look back on it and see how far we’ve come. Like a very public form of home movies.”

Keith paused, a tight feeling forming in his chest.

“So yeah, just something simple. That’s what I would want. Just me and Lance. Together. That’s all...I hope I get to see him again. That’s _really_ all I want.”

Keith went silent, closing his eyes as he tried to rein his emotions in. After a few moments, he continued.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen. So just in case things don’t end pleasantly, I’m gonna shut everything off. No one needs to see…” Keith trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence. “So this is Keith Kogane, age twenty-two...signing off.”

Keith sat up straight, reaching around to the small black box that was clipped to his waistband. It took him a minute to find the switch that muted his mic, but eventually he located it, turning his mic off. It took him a few more moments to shut his body cam off. Once he was done with that, there was nothing else to do but wait. Wait and hope that he would be okay.

The darkness moved around him as he waited, suffocating him. It was playing with him, pressing in close and then backing off only to come back stronger. It was agony, leaving Keith huddled in a ball, back still pressed against the door. He could hear whispers float through the room, one word repeated over and over again.

_Stay_

Occasionally a sound would come from further in the room, like something was hitting the glass cases. Keith tried to ignore those, instead focusing on his breathing, making sure that he continued to inhale and exhale. That meant he was alive. That he could still be rescued.

The room had gone cold, the type of cold Keith was familiar with. It was the same cold that had ran through his veins back at the asylum. It was a stale cold. It didn’t move, instead lingering over him, holding him down. He couldn’t feel his fingers anymore, he hadn’t been able to for awhile.

Keith was running out of time and he knew it. The clock was counting down. He wanted to believe that Lance was coming back, that he would be saved. But with each minute that passed by, the more hopeless his situation seemed.

_“Now I lay me down to sleep…”_

Keith’s head jerked up at the clear voice right next to his ear, causing him to scoot a few feet to the side. His heart was pounding in his chest, eyes searching the darkness for the source of the voice. His breaths came out hard and heavy, the panic rising in him.

_“I pray the lord my soul to keep…”_

The voice was in his ear again and Keith yelped as he moved away, losing all feeling for where the door was. He had lost it to the darkness.

_“If I should die before I wake…”_

The voice was everywhere now, filling up the room. It crawled over Keith’s skin, laced itself in his hair, tore at his clothes.

_“I pray the lord my soul to take…”_

A hand latched onto Keith’s leg, drawing a scream from him. He tried to pull away, to escape the phantom grip, but it was too strong, too tight. It pulled him forward almost effortlessly. He tried to dig his nails into the floor, desperate for some way to fight. He kicked his free leg out but it met only air.

“Please, please, please god, no…” Keith begged as he was pulled further towards the entity.

_“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the lord my soul to keep…”_

A second hand latched onto his other leg, the cold of the grip burning his skin through his pants. The pain radiated upwards, working its way throughout Keith’s body. He wasn’t sure if the screams that left his lips were from fear or from the pain. They were mixed together, terror swirling with agony.

_“If I should die before I wake, I pray the lord my soul to take…”_

Keith was losing his fight and he knew it. He could feel his body shutting down, a blurriness swimming on the edges of his vision. The cold was burrowing deeper in him, piercing his heart, leaving his veins still and icy. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open, keep his fingers grasping for some type of purchase.

_“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the lord my soul to take…”_

Keith’s last thought before he was pulled under was of Lance.

Bright.

Colorful.

Lance.

\-----

Keith’s first thought was, _‘Shit, everything is so white here.’_

And it was. Very very white. So white that he had to squint his eyes to keep them from watering at the brightness.

Keith’s next thought was, _‘This smells like the time I broke my arm.’_

And it did. It smelled exactly like when Keith had crashed his bike when he was nine and his parents had rushed him to the emergency room. He remembered complaining to his mother how everything smelled too clean. She had only let out a choked laugh and said that the smell shouldn’t have been his biggest concern.

Keith’s final thought was, _‘Why am I at the hospital?’_

“Keith?”

It seemed that thought was going to have to wait. Keith recognized that voice and it was far more important than anything else he could think of at the moment. Keith eyes felt heavy as he moved his gaze towards the source of the voice.

“Oh my god, Keith!”

It took Keith a moment to focus in on the tan boy that stood over him, leaning on the bed Keith was in. Slowly, bright blue eyes came into view, the rest of his face not far behind.

“Lance…” Keith’s voice was dry and cracked. The name felt heavy in his throat, but he forced it out anyway.

“You’re awake!”

Lance’s voice was musical, a soft melody that drifted around the room. The smile that was sent his way was cheerful, filling Keith’s chest with warmth.

“How long?” Keith asked, hoping that Lance would understand his question.

The smile on Lance’s face fell, a darkness filling his eyes.

“About a month.” His voice had gone quiet, a pain behind his words. “Felt like a lot longer…”

Keith didn’t respond, instead forcing his arm to move his hand closer to Lance’s. It was slow going and it frustrated him that he couldn’t move like he wanted to, but eventually his fingertips brushed against the soft skin of Lance’s hand.

Lance’s face lit up again, his hand grasping Keith’s and squeezing it gently. “The others are all okay too. Just so you know.”

“What happened?” Keith asked, not seeming to be able to recall anything after Lance left him alone in that room.

“We can talk about that later.” Lance replied, voice still light. “We should get a doctor in here first. Dontcha think?”

Keith let out a small, dry huff. “Doctors suck.”

Lance chuckled. “Yes, I know. Doctors are the worst. But you did just wake up from a month long coma. I think that warrants a doctor.”

Keith didn’t want to admit that Lance had a point so he just let out another huff, pointedly looking away from him.

Lance chuckled again before leaning down and planting a soft kiss on his forehead. “Thank god you’re okay.” He heard Lance whisper before Lance was pulling away, leaving the room.

Keith was left alone, only the methodical beep of his heart rate monitor to keep him company. He tried to think back on what he remembered, try to at least put some of the puzzle pieces together. He remembered the mansion and that white-haired bastard that came with it. He remembered being locked in and not being able to get ahold of anyone. He remembered walking through the dark hallways and the screaming. He remembered pushing Lance out of the room, the door slamming shut. He remembered trying to convince Lance to save himself...but then there was nothing. It was all blank.

Keith stared at the ceiling, trying to stretch his mind as far as it would go. It was like the memories were stuck behind some curtain that he couldn’t open. He searched for something to grasp onto and pull the memories forward. There was one phrase that kept popping up in his mind, although he couldn’t understand the connection.

“Now I lay me down to sleep…” Keith muttered to himself.

It was like the curtain had been ripped down, each memory flowing into his mind without control.

The voice next to his ear…

The hands on his legs...

The burning cold…

Keith could feel the panic rise in him, his fight or flight kicking into overdrive. His eyes darted around the room, making sure that it wasn’t still there with him. He couldn’t breathe, the air refusing to come out in more than small pants. He could hear the beeps start to speed up on the heart rate monitor which only fueled his fear more. He needed to get up and run. He needed to find somewhere to hide. But his limbs just wouldn’t _move_.

“He’s panicking.” A strong, unfamiliar voice said from somewhere in the room. “We need to calm him down or we’re gonna have to sedate him.”

The words didn’t register with Keith. He was still back at that mansion, trapped in that room, listening to that voice repeat the same thing over and over again.

_“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the lord my soul to take…”_

Keith tried to get away from it, to escape the icy grip, but hands held him down, made it so that he couldn’t move.

“Keith! Keith, please listen to me. You’re okay. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you anymore.”

Lance. That was Lance’s voice. Why was he here? He should be safe on the other side of the door.

“It’s over, Keith. You’re safe. You’re here with me. Just breathe.”  

Cool hands were placed on either side of his face, a forehead pressing against his own. It wasn’t the same cold that was gripping at his legs. This cool was a safe cool.

“Please, Keith. Please calm down.”

Lance’s voice was almost a beg. There was so much sorrow in those few words that Keith couldn’t help but follow it. Lance was in pain and Keith needed to stop it. To tell him that everything was going to be okay.

He found that Lance was a lot closer than he thought. He could feel Lance’s breath on his face, the subtle scent of mint accompanying it. He could hear Lance murmuring the same couple of phrases over and over again. He was safe. He was okay. Nothing was going to hurt him anymore.

Keith slowly relaxed, his breathing returning to normal, the beeping on the heart rate monitor growing slower with each passing beat. The hands holding him down slowly released their grips, until the only person left touching him was Lance.

“...sorry…” Keith muttered, feeling guilty for worrying Lance.

Lance lifted his forehead from Keith’s, pulling back just enough to look into Keith’s eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I scared you.” Keith said softly.

“Worried me.” Lance corrected. “You could never scare me. Not now. Not ever.”

“Sorry for worrying you. I won’t do it again.”

Lance gave him a small smile, thumbs brushing along Keith’s cheekbones tenderly.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

\-----

Keith was released from the hospital two weeks later. The doctors wanted him to stay another week so they could run some more tests, but Keith had refused. More than anything, he just wanted to go home. He wanted to sleep in his own bed and not have to be woken up at 8am every single goddamn morning.

Lance had been there the whole time, of course. Or at least, as much as the hospital would allow. It seemed that originally he had been hospitalized near the mansion, but had later been moved to the hospital back in their home city so he would be closer to family and friends. Keith was grateful for that, not liking the idea of going anywhere near that mansion ever again.

The rest of the team had come to visit him a lot too, although he asked them not to. But apparently no one listened to the guy in the hospital gown so he was subjected to unannounced visits almost every day.

Lance had told him that he had found the rest of the team after he had left Keith alone. They had been trapped in different rooms of the house. Lance said he wasn’t sure why he was able to let his friends out, but not Keith. The two just left the answer as ‘weird ghost power’.

Also, it turned out that Shiro couldn’t break down a door, _but_ Shiro and Hunk together could break down a door. According to the team, they had found him comatose in the display room. They thought he was dead at first because he was so pale and so cold. It was Lance who had apparently checked for a pulse, all the while shouting at him for being a dumbass and breaking his promise to stay safe. After that, they had carried him to the front door which Hunk and Shiro somehow managed to break down. They chalked it up to adrenaline. Then it was only a matter of putting Keith in the van and driving him to the nearest hospital.

Lotor had been arrested for kidnapping and attempted murder which Keith had just been delighted to hear. He still had no idea what Lotor’s stake in all this was, but he was a bad news regardless. Apparently the police were convinced it had been Lotor who had almost killed Keith, but the team knew better. The two handprint scars on Keith’s shins were enough proof of that. Still, no one tried to convince the police otherwise. There was no real point.

The story did break the news, though. Word of Keith being in a coma and Lotor being arrested spread like a wildfire through their fanbase. The abrupt swell of online support was insane. The hashtag ‘get well Red’ was even trending worldwide for a few days. That had been weird for Keith, but he appreciated the sentiment.

The police had also returned all of the team’s equipment to them which apparently had Pidge jumping for joy. They had gone through all of the footage recorded and found that it was all intact. Some of it was even being used in the trial against Lotor. No one had ever shown Keith the footage from that night, nor did he want them too. He had a strong feeling that would send him into another panic attack.

The footage remained unreleased to the public despite the call for it. The team agreed that there were some things that didn’t need to be shown to the world. That night, was one of those things.

Both he and Lance officially swore off ghost hunting. They’d had enough run-ins with ghosts for one lifetime. But, Keith found, there was still the question of ‘what now’? He didn’t know what his next step was, but he had a feeling he and Lance were going to be taking it together.

\-----

“Keith! Guess what!” Lance shouted as he burst into Keith’s apartment, waving his phone in the air like a maniac.

Keith was seated on his living room couch, laptop open on his lap. He had been home for a week, but he still had over a thousand unopened emails to go through. Apparently being in a coma didn’t exempt him from his online social obligations.

“What?” Keith asked, closing his laptop to give Lance his full attention.

“Pidge just sent me something. Said I should listen to it.” Lance replied excitedly, plopping down on the couch next to Keith.

“And did you?” Keith asked, not understanding what had gotten Lance so hyped.

“I did on the way over.” Lance replied, a broad smile on his face. “And I figured out something pretty exciting.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“What we should do next!” Lance exclaimed. “Actually, it was your idea.”

“My idea?” Keith asked, tilting his head in confusion. “What was my idea?”

“Moving.” Lance replied. “Specifically to a small town.”

Keith furrowed his brow as he tried to follow Lance’s train of thought. “Moving to a small...oh my god! You heard that?”

“Sure did.” Lance said, sending Keith a sly smirk.

Keith groaned, leaning his head back against the couch and closing his eyes. “Please forget it. I was under a lot of stress and scared and-”

“But it’s what you want, right?” Lance cut in, his voice so soft that it caused Keith to open his eyes and look at him.

“What?”

“You could actually picture a life like that, right?” Lance said.

“Well, yeah.” Keith replied. “But it was just a fantasy.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Lance said, his blue eyes softening.

“Is that a life you’d be happy with?” Keith asked.

Lance leaned over, catching Keith’s lips in a chaste kiss, slow and sweet. When they pulled apart, Lance whispered. “Any life with you is a life I would be happy with.”

Keith smiled at him softly before leaning up and capturing his lips, pouring every ounce of love he felt for him into it.

Lance was bright. Lance was colorful. Lance was his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! I certainly had a lot of fun writing this.  
> I went for a little less spooky time and a little more showing the before and after of the spooky stuff cause it seemed like a lot of you guys were interested in that.  
> I'm thinking about writing a little mini part 3 to this that shows what Lance went through after Keith got trapped in that room. So if you'd be interested in that, please let me know.  
> Any and all feedback you are willing and able to give is greatly appreciated.  
> Also follow me on tumbr for more Klance content if you're into that sorta thing: [@wingsofvoltron](https://wingsofvoltron.tumblr.com/%22)  
> See ya around!
> 
> ~Redjay
> 
> EDIT: Since so many people seem up for it, I will be writing a part 3. It'll be from Lance's perspective and start right after Keith gets trapped. And yes, it should answer all of the questions that are left over from this fic. So stay tuned, my friends :)


End file.
